


when you smile // philip hamilton x reader

by cupcakelover4488



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (i've already written a lot of chapters so every other day i'll add already made chapters), (in future chapters), (once i remember what actually happens in the story), Angst, BOTH PLOT WISE AND WRITING WISE, Character Death, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Historical Accuracy, IT GETS BETTER AS IT GOES ON TRUST ME, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Smut, Love Triangles, Mild Abuse, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Parts, Plot Twists, Reader is George Eacker's sister, Slavery/House Maids, Sorry Not Sorry, soooooo much angst, where do i even begin..., x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-01-21 07:18:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 42,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12452388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupcakelover4488/pseuds/cupcakelover4488
Summary: (Y/n) Eacker had a good life. Smart, beautiful, and witty, suitors basically lined up just to court her. But then she meets Phillip Hamilton, the notorious bachelor who made girls swoon with every wink. So when she meets him, she isn't quite head over heels. That is, until one day she realizes her amorous affection towards him. But that same day, tragedy strikes and (Y/n) must choose between friends or foes.





	1. s u i t o r s

**Author's Note:**

> pssst! if you're a wattpad user and recognize this story go to the end notes!

Your Pov

✿

"Miss (Y/n)?" I looked up from the book I was reading and saw Ruth, my maid, peering through the door.

"Yes, Ruth? What do you need?" I examined her face. Anxiety filled her eyes as they glanced across the room. She looked back and hesitantly responded.

"I'm really sorry to bother you, Miss (Y/n), but-" Ruth stopped and looked behind her, making sure no one else was in earshot of her. She leaned in and whispered, "The suitor from last night is here."

I groaned in annoyance. The suitor, Fredrick Mandeg, had no respect for personal boundaries and put his hand on my thigh, his hand slowly moving up as he leaned in for a kiss. I pushed him off and told him to leave, telling him that I was no longer interested in his presence in my household.

"Would you like me to tell him to leave?" Ruth asked. Ruth was more of a friend to me than a servant. We are the same age and have the same interests in sewing, cooking, and reading. We grew up together and played when Ruth finished her duties. However, I am more educated than Ruth. I excel in reading, writing, French, Latin, science and medicine. If there was a school that would accept ladies like myself, I would surely attend.

"Please do, Ruth. I do not wish to see him anymore from what he tried to pull last night." Ruth nodded and rushed out the door. I could hear Ruth tell Fredrick to leave, which he responded by begging to be let in. I heard him shove Ruth out of the way, her body hitting the chair by the front door. I quickly set my book down and stood up, preparing to defend Ruth and myself from possible danger. He stomped up the stairs and barged through the door.

"What do you want Fredrick?" I snarled, already clenching my fists.

"You know, it was foolish of you to reject me." He smirked. I looked him straight in the eye and glared at him.

"Please leave Fredrick. As I said before, you are not welcome here anymore." He stepped closer to me and extended his arm out towards me. I swatted him away but he grabbed my arm. I slapped him, hard, and his cheek was red in the shape of my hand. He grabbed my other arm and pulled me closer, his hands tightly around my wrists. His now red face now was inches away from mine. I could smell whiskey on his tongue. My nose crinkled at the putrid smell.

"My God Fredrick, have you been drinking?" He smirked at me and didn't respond. Instead, he leaned in closer.

But just before he could, a voice bellowed, "Get the hell away from her."

Fredrick turned to see my brother, George Eacker, standing at the doorway with a flustered face and clenched fists.

Fredrick instantly lets go of me and his eyes widened in horror as George started walking towards him and threw a punch that landed right on his left cheekbone. He stumbled back and fell from the impact, clutching his cheek and sobbing.

"Get out," George said coldly. Fredrick instantly got up and ran out of the house, sobbing as the door was shut behind him.

George turned back to me and his eyes scanned my body, looking for cuts and bruises. "Did he harm you."

"No, George. I am fine."

He let a sigh of relief. "I swear, I am gonna kill him for what he did to you." His teeth clenched in anger. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.

"That won't be necessary."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure," I smiled at him.

"Okay. Did you hear about Aaron Burr and his new position as Senate." He changed the subject quickly. As a supporter of Aaron Burr, he was always one of the first to know about everything related to the man.

"Yes, I did. He will make a fine senator," I said as moved out of my room and down the stairs.

"Yes, indeed. Much better that Phillip Schuyler." He scoffed as he said the name.

"I think Phillip Schuyler was a great senator. He's just getting old, that's all." I replied as I went around to look for Ruth to see if she was alright. I looked around the entire house but couldn't find her. George was still behind me, ranting.

"That's right. We needed a new, young, fresh face as the new senator and now we have one. Alexander Hamilton was surely angry."

I went out back to the garden. "Oh was he? What did he say." I cocked an eyebrow, interested in what George had to say about the person he hated so much.

"I could hear him from miles away. He blamed Burr for 'changing parties just so he could run against his father-in-law'. Crazy right? His pride is going to kill him one day, just you wait and s-"

I put my hand in front of his mouth, silencing him. I heard muffled cries from the garden. "Ruth?" I ran around the flower bush and saw Ruth crying. She looked up and saw me. I walked over to her and bent down on my knees.

"What's the matter?" I said, my hand on her back. She was about to say something when George came around the corner. She looked at him and instantly got up, brushing the dirt off her dress. She wiped away her tears and looked down. "I- I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n). I'll be in the kitchen washing dishes."

Ruth walked out of the garden and back into the house.

"Must you always scare her?" I asked George.

"She is just intimidated by me." George retorted.

I stood up and went back in the house. I went up the stairs and into the room and grabbed my coat. I walked back down the stairs.

"I'm going on a walk. I'll be back by dinner," I called out.

"Okay. Be safe." George yelled from his room.

I walked out of the house and shut the door behind me. I felt the cool March breeze go through my (y/h/c) as I wrapped my coat around me.

• • •

I didn't take long until I reached the town. I went down the cobblestone street and looked out at the busy town center. I walked into my favorite shop to look for a ribbon for an upcoming ball.

I was looking for a (y/f/c) ribbon to match my (y/f/c) dress when I heard a familiar voice.

"Angie, do you really have to find the 'perfect ribbon'?" I looked up to see a man, around the same age as me with his arms folded, complaining about staying with his younger sister who looked to be about three years younger. The man looked familiar, but I just couldn't seem to remember his name.

"Philip, Mother said you had to accompany me while I look for a ribbon to match my dress. And yes, it has to be perfect in order for me to get asked to dance."

Philip Hamilton. That was his name. The man was notorious for flirting with every girl he saw, making them swoon with every wink. I have never been interested in him because of his ways with women. I looked at him in disgust at the way he was treating his younger sister.

"But do you have to get a specific one? Why can't you just get one like this?" He pointed to an ugly piece of cobalt blue ribbon with lace lining the outside. She looked at it and said, "Ew, that ribbon is ugly, I hate it." Philip groaned. The girl, who I assumed to be Angie, rolled her eyes. "Fine Philip, go and talk to girls for all I care. I don't need your help." A smile appeared on Philips' face. "Thank you!" Philip hugged Angie but she didn't hug him back. He ran out of the shop, not looking back.

I looked at Angie and saw her face fill with sadness. I walked over to her to try and comfort her. "What color is your dress?" I said kindly. She looked at me with tears brimming her eyes. She looked back down and quickly wiped away her tears.

"Oh, um, pink." She went back to rummaging through the ribbons. I started to help her and looked through the pile of ribbons until I came across one that I thought she would like.

"What about this one?" I said holding up the ribbon. The ribbon was salmon pink that had a satiny feeling to it. It was simple, but still very pretty. Her eyes widened as a smile appeared on her face. "That's perfect!" She yelled almost a bit too loudly. I chuckled and gave it to her. She went up to the shop owner and paid for it.

I smiled seeing her excitement. "Would you like me to accompany you back to you brother."

Her smile dropped and she groaned. "Ugghh, okay." I held out my arm and she intertwined hers with mine. We walked out of the shop and into the town square, looking for Philip.

"My name is (y/n), by the way."

"Angelica Hamilton," she proudly stated. "But you can call me Angie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Angie," I said smiling.

"It's nice to meet you too." 

We walked for a little more until we found Philip. He was talking to two girls who were giggling at everything he said. It was annoying, seeing Philip do what he always does. I looked at Angie who scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, Philip!" Angie waved her hand in the air, trying to get his attention. I saw him cringe back when he heard her voice and turned around. But when he turned to face me, his shoulders relaxed, and he looked at me in awe. He walked away from the girls who glared at me and walked away. But I really didn't care.

"Philip look at the ribbon I got!" Angie waved to ribbon in the Philips' face. He ignored her and pushed her aside, still walking towards me. My smile dropped as I saw what he did.

"Why hello," He bowed. "My name is Ph-"

"Philip Hamilton, I know. " I cut him off. He smirked at me, scanning me up and down. I got a good look at him too. I had never seen him up close before, only from afar. He had light tan skin with freckles that look like they exploded onto his face. He had hazel eyes, that looked more to be green. He had brown, silky, curly hair that went down to his shoulders.

"And you must be?" He said, still smirking. 

"Not interested in you, that's for sure." I put my hands on my hips. I heard Angie try and hold in a laugh, but it was no use. Philip turned around and gave Angie a glare.

"Angie do you know her?" Philip said.

"Yes, I do Philip," Angie said, "She helped me pick out a ribbon since you were too lazy to do so." Now it was my turn to try and stifle a laugh. I saw that the sun was beginning to set.

"Well, I best be heading home. But before I head home, I want to give you something Angie. Wait here." I said. Angie's face brightened as I turned around to the nearest shop and walked inside. It was a tailor that greeted me.

"Hello there! Are you looking for anything in particular?" She said happily.

"Actually, I was wondering if you had a quill and some ink that I could use to write something down?"

"Yes in fact I do. Wait here." She went into the back of the store and moments later she came back out with a quill, some ink, and a piece of paper. I quickly wrote down my first name and address, so that Angie could write to me.

"Thank you." I handed the quill and ink back to her and left the shop, still hoping that they were still there waiting for me. Luckily, they were. I handed Angie the paper and smiled.

"Please write to me, Angie." He eyes lit up and she smiled. She gave me a hug, squeezing me tightly which I was not prepared for. I hugged her back. I turned around and began walking back when Philip tried to converse with me once more.

"Wait, I still didn't catch your name." 

I stopped and turned my head around. "I didn't throw it."

He was taken aback from my response and Angie laughed. I turned back around and walked home, leaving Angie and Philip on the sidewalk.

✿


	2. bruises

✿

Angie's Pov

✿

Philips face still held the flustered look it had when (Y/n) turned around and walked down the cobblestone sidewalk.

He looked down, baffled at what had just happened. He wasn't used to her kind of response towards him. I know because I'm always with him when he talks to a different girl each day.

"So, what did it feel like to be rejected for the first time?" I smirked.

He looked up and faced me. But I noticed his eyes were slightly red and puffy. Had been crying this whole time? My smirk turned into a frown. Honestly, I was a little concerned.

"Ha!" He scoffed. "I've been rejected before Angie,"

"Really?!" I said sarcastically. Philip just rolled his eyes. "Wait, so then why were you crying if you've been rejected before. All you do is move onto the next girl that walks by. So what's so different about her that made you cry?"

"First of all, I wasn't crying,"

"Yes, you were." I interrupted him

"No, I wasn't"

"Yes, you were."

"Whatever," Phillip said crossing his arms. We walked in silence for a minute until I decided to exasperate him one last time.

"Yes, you were," I whispered but just loud enough so he could hear.

"Angie!" Phillip exclaimed with a bit of frustration in his voice. I put my hands up in surrender.

"Okay, Okay, I'll stop."

"Finally, thank you," Philip said dramatically.

"I still can't believe I made a friend today," I said smiling at the parchment paper that (Y/n) gave me with her address written in perfect cursive handwriting.

"Ha, yes I can't believe it either," Philip said smirking.

I rolled my eyes and nudged him in the side with my elbow, laughing.

"Wait, did you ever get her name?" Philip asked curiously.

"Yes, I did get her name."

"Then how come I didn't?" Philip asked confused. I shook my head slightly at his dumbfoundedness. Even though Philip was very intelligent, he could be stupid sometimes.

"She's smart and isn't going to fall for you and your flirtatious demeanor as quickly as the other girls are going to." Philip rolled his eyes and hesitantly looked at me.

"Um, what is her name?"

"Hmm," I began sarcastically, tilting my head and looking up. "I don't know if I should tell you. She didn't seem very interested in you."

"But I'm interested in her!" Philip pleaded. I looked at him a giggled. He looked stressed over (Y/n).

"I'll think about it."

"Aw come on Ang, ple-"

"I didn't say no, I said I'll think about it," I said cutting him off.

Philip sighed. "Okay. I'll find out eventually,"

"No, you won't," I scoffed.

"Try me," Philip said.

✿

Philip and I both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

Before we knew it, we were home. I couldn't wait to tell mama and papa about today. I ran up the pathway and stepped onto the front porch where I didn't bother to knock. I live here after all.

I opened the door and walked in, Philip followed behind me and shut the door once we were both inside. The smell of tomato soup filled my nose as the warm air welcomed me.

"Mama, guess what!" I exclaimed as I ran through the living room and into the dining room where I saw my mother setting up the dinner table. She looked at me in surprise as I burst into the dining room.

"Angie don't do that. You scared me half to death," Mama said placing a hand on her chest dramatically.

"I'm sorry mama, but it's just that I had a great day today," I said with joy. Mama raised her eyebrow.

"Did you meet a boy?" Mama said smirking playfully. I crinkled my nose and the question, making mama laugh.

"Ew no, mama! But I did make a friend," I said smiling.

Mama's smirk changed into a smile.

"Well, how about you get all of your siblings downstairs and we'll talk about it over dinner," Mama said as she finished setting up the table.

"Okay!" I said as a turned around and raced up the stairs to get my younger siblings.

After I got everyone down, I realized that I forgot someone. Papa.

Even though I knew I would be disturbing him, I still wanted him to come down and eat with us like a real family.

With me being his eldest daughter (and favorite child), I wouldn't need to knock on the door of his study. But, that was before he published The Reynolds Pamphlet. That was before he broke our family name. That was before he put his reputation before his family.

I slowly opened the door and saw my father writing like always. He was too engrossed in his writing that he wasn't able to hear me open the door.

"P-papa?" I asked hesitantly. I know that he would know it was me by how I call him papa. Philip calls him pops, and James, Will, Alex, and John all called him father.

Ever since The Reynolds Pamphlet was published, I haven't seen papa. At first, I was mad at him for destroying our family, especially my mother. As months went on, I learned to forgive him. But he didn't come out of his study to face us, or spend time with us, or even eat dinner with us and Philip would always bring dinner to him. I decided then and there that if he wasn't going to make the effort to spend time and talk with his family, then I wouldn't make the effort to talk to him.

Papa looked up from his writing and I heard his breath hitch. He set down his quill before turning around to see me. 

His eyes were wide and started to brim with tears. The dim candle illuminated papa's facial features perfectly. I could clearly see the purple bags under his eyes from spending sleepless nights writing. I looked down at the floor, seeing the cold hardwood floors that I heard papa pace on every night. I looked back up, tears now staring to brim my eyes, and looked at him.

"Angie..." I heard him whisper under his breath.

I looked back down in shame for not speaking to him for almost seven months. I started to cry silently. I hear papa get out of his chair and walk towards me. I still don't look up at him. Then I feel a tight embrace around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I rested my head on his shoulder and hugged him back.

"I-I'm so sorry for avoiding you, papa."

"Shh, shh. I know. I-I'm sorry for avoiding you, and this family." He said holding my head.

I look at him and smile slightly, building up the courage to ask him if he would join us for dinner. I pull away and wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my dress.

"C-could you join us for dinner? Please?" I ask him. His smile turns into a slight frown.

"I'm sorry my darling, but I have wor-" He began to say but I cut him off before he could finish. Something I would never dare do.

"Papa, please. I think it's time that kids know that you're still alive. And plus, I have to tell all of you about the amazing day I had."

Papa let out a slight chuckle and smiled, raising and eyebrow in the process.

"Oh, do you now?"

I nodded my head, "Yes I do. Now come down before mama yells at me for taking to long."

I opened the door and walked out, walking down the hallway before looking back to see if papa had followed suit. He followed behind me, looking around hesitantly.

We walked down the stairs and into the dining room where everyone was already seated. As we opened the dining room door, all eyes were on us as we took out seats.

"Oh. Hello, Alexander," Mama said coldly. He cringed back in fear and shame before regaining the little amount of dignity he had at that moment and sat up straight.

• • •

Dinner was quiet until mama set down her spoon and looked up me.

"So, Angie, would you like to tell us about your day today?"

I shot up in excitement and put down my spoon.

"I made a friend today," I said proudly. Papa cocked his eyebrow and smirked at me like mama did earlier.

"Was it perhaps a boy?" Papa asked. I groaned and Philip basically choked on his soup laughing at what papa said.

"HA, in her dreams!" Philip said. I kicked him from under the table and shot him a glare which shut him up. He looked at me and glared back.

"Philip, don't interrupt," Mama warned.

"Yes, Ma," Philip said still looking at me.

"No, papa it was not a boy."

"Well if it wasn't a boy, then who was it," Mama said.

I looked at Philip straight in the eyes, "Her name is (Y/n)."

"Does this (Y/n) have a last name?" Papa inquired.

" I assume she does, but I don't know it," I said looking down.

"How did you meet her?" asked Mama.

"I met her while in the ribbon shop looking at ribbons for the upcoming Spring's Ball. She helped me pick out this beautiful ribbon that was just perfect."

Mama looked at Philip. "I thought Philip was supposed to help you pick out a ribbon?"

"Oh he was helping me," I said. Philip let out a small sigh of relief. I continued on, "Until he started complaining to me and acting like a complete two-year-old." Philip looked at me with wide eyes and vigorously shook his head.

"He kept on asking if he could go look at other shops and by other shops, I mean other girls to please him and his needs."

I looked at Philip with a devilish smile as he looked back at me wide-eyed and started sweating nervously. Mama and papa's eyes also widened and turned towards Philip.

"Philip Hamilton! What did I tell you about that." Mama exclaimed. Philip shrank back in fear.

"I'm sorry Ma, I couldn't help it. I mean, ribbon shopping is so boring." Philip said. Mama sighed shook her head, continuing to eat.

✿

After dinner was over, Papa helped Mama clean up. I thought I heard them talking in the kitchen but, maybe I was just hearing things. I ran up to my room and put on my nightgown to retire for the night. But before I got into bed, I wrote a letter to (Y/n).

When I finally finished writing, I sealed the letter and put it on my night stand to remind me to mail it out the next morning.

I got into bed and pulled the sheets over me. I blew out the candle on my nightstand. Today was a good day, I thought before I closed my eyes drifted off into sleep.

✿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last night i saw how hits and kudos i've received since publishing and forgetting about this for a year now, and i was like: WOAH   
> thanks you guys, all of you are the best. again, please forgive how cringy my writing style is. like i said in the tags, it gets so much better. I've been meaning to rewrite the chapters up until when my writing style changed, but i haven't gotten around to it.


	3. correspondances

Drip   
Drip   
Drip   
"Ow!"

I pulled my hand away, wincing in pain, as the red melted wax that I attempted to seal my letter with burned my finger. I looked at my finger. It was as red as the wax itself and blisters were already starting to form.

The letter I had perfectly written was addressed to a dear friend of mine, Theodosia Burr. We had been friends since we were 13. I met her when I was dragged along to one of my father's meetings with Mr. Burr. When I met her, I thought she was boring. She would always say to me: "Talk less (y/n), and smile more." Her father would say the same thing to mine.

Like father, like daughter.

I sighed, knowing that the burn would take time to heal. I got up and headed for the kitchen.

As I walked out of my room and down the stairs I noticed that the small stack of letters on the small chestnut wood desk in the living room.

I stopped, noticing the name on the top letter:

~(Y/N)~

I seemed to forget that my finger was scorched when I picked up the stack of letters.

With my injured hand.

"Ouch!" I said as I dropped the letters. The letters fell to the floor landing in all different directions.

I groaned and knelt down, picking up each letter with my non-injured hand.

When I finished picking up all the letters, I put them back on the desk. I decided that I would read the letter after I attended to my injured finger. 

✿

I finished wrapping the dampened cloth around my finger and went back to the desk in the living room where the letters were still placed in the neat pile that I left them in.

I picked up the letter and shuffled through them to find the one that had my name written on it. But as I shuffled through them, I saw another letter addressed to me. I traced my fingers over my name which was so intricately written.

Maybe it was just another suitor. I thought. I rolled my eyes, skipping past the letter and found the one that I saw earlier.

I found the letter that I saw before I dropped the letters and got a better look at it. It surely wasn't written by another suitor for it had flowers drawn on it.

I turned the letter over and gently slid my finger under the seal, breaking it.

I opened it and started reading the letter,

Dear (Y/n),

Hello! It's me, Angie Hamilton. I just wanted to thank you again for helping me pick out a ribbon for my dress. Sometimes I dislike being Philip's sister. Girls sometimes use me to get to Philip, and when they get to Philip, they drop me and move on. Which, is why I appreciated your true kindness towards me and your wittiness towards my brother. Your reaction towards my brothers' demeanor was different than the others. And I liked it. Are you going to the Spring's Ball? Who are you going with? I hope I can hear back from you soon and I hope we could see each other and talk more.

Au revoir,

Angelica Hamilton

After I read Angie's letter, I honestly felt kinda bad for her. It must be a pain to watch Philip flirt with girls every day and then be left in a store all by your self because your brother wanted to go flirt with girls.

I took the rest of the letters addressed to me and hurried up towards my room.

✿

I picked up a piece of parchment paper and wrote Angie a reply. Once I was done, folded it and put it aside. I decided to seal it later after I read the second letter.

I turned over the letter and slid my finger under the seal, breaking it. I unfolded the letter and found a letter written by a person who was clearly as educated as I am (and I have a VERY high intelligence).

Dear (Y/n),

I am very pleased to write to you, though you didn't give me permission. It took me almost a week to obtain your address. My pesky sister attempted to conceal it from me but I eventually got a hold of it. I want to apologize for our first encounter. I hope my sister wasn't too much of an annoyance while you were shopping. I was wondering if I could get to know you more. Say, maybe a walk through the park? For I would love to see your beautiful face again. I expect to hear from you soon.

Your Sincerest,

Philip Hamilton

"Ugh," I said as I rolled my eyes in disgust and annoyance. He expects me to write back to him? I don't think so.

Yet, I got another piece of parchment paper, dipped my quill into the ink pot, and began to write my reply.

✿

After I finished, I leaned back in my chair and sighed in exhaustion. I reached over and picked up the red wax candle and wax seal stamp. I made sure not to burn myself as I pressed the stamp onto the hot molten wax. Once it dried, I gathered up the finished letters and put them in a stack and got up, heading down stairs.

But instead of just leaving the letters for the post man to get them, I decided to personally deliver them.

I went back up to my room to get my navy blue cloak and wrote George a note saying that I was going out for a bit.

I made my way into town, stopping by Theodosia's house first.

I stepped onto their porch and knocked on the door.

The door opened and I was greeted by the ever so lovely, Aaron Burr.

"Why hello (Y/n). It's a pleasure to see you again," Aaron said with the same smile plastered on his face.

"Hello Mr. Burr, it's a pleasure to see you too."

"How can I help you Miss (Y/n)? Would you like me to get Theodosia for you?"

"Oh no thank you, I just came by to drop this off," I handed him the letter.

" I have a couple errands to get to so I'm just stopping by," I said.

"I'll make sure Theodosia gets your letter," Aaron said putting the letter under his arm. I started to back up and turn around.

"Thank you, Mr. Burr!" I called while walking down the pathway. I continued down the sidewalk, heading towards the Hamilton household.


	4. Chapter 4

As my navy blue cloak swayed from side to side, almost sweeping the ground, I could not keep my mind off of Philip.

Why am even thinking about him? He's an arrogant human being that just wants to get under your dress. I thought. I shook the thoughts from my head as I realized that I just went past their house.

I huffed. I turned around and walked back down the road.

I looked down at the letter Angie had sent me with her address on it to make sure I wasn't approaching the wrong house. I stopped in front of a tall brick house that had a flowery front yard.

As I walked up the stone pathway, I could hear playful screaming and laughing; the sound of children running around, and the sweet melodic sound of a piano playing. I simply smiled and chuckled to myself as I walked nearer the entrance.

I smoothed my skirt and put flyaway strands of hair behind my ear, wanting to look presentable when I met Angie and her lively family.

I wrapped my knuckles on the door two times.

I hummed along to the melody of the song being played on the piano. My mother used to play that song. Her voice was so beautiful when she sang.

I stopped when I heard someone unlock the door.

A man, who I assumed to be Mr. Alexander Hamilton himself, stood on the other side of the threshold. He had long dark brown, almost black hair, that went down to his shoulders. Strands of hair flew out in all directions. Underneath his dark brown eyes were purple bags. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week!

As I studied him, he studied me.

"Hello Miss, how can I help you?" Mr. Hamilton looked at me with nervous eyes. He kept looked around at our surroundings, almost as if he was afraid of someone seeing me talk to him.

"Hello, sir. I came to drop this off to Angie." I stuck my arm out with the letter in my hand.

"(Y/N)!" I heard a familiar voice screech behind Mr. Hamilton. Angie appeared out of nowhere. She squeezed her way through the door and Mr. Hamilton and threw herself onto me, embracing me in a hug.

I took a steep back in trying to support the weight that was just thrown onto me, laughing. I hugged her back tightly.

"Angie, who is this young lady?" We separated and Angie smoothed out her ruffled dress. "Oh! This is (Y/N)!" Angie said. Mr. Hamilton looked back at me and relaxed, smiling.

"Ahh so you're the girl my daughter was talking about," said Mr. Hamilton

I curtsied and he bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Hamilton. I met Angie about a week ago while shopping for ribbons. Elle est ma meilleure amie," I said smiling. I looked at Angie, who was befuddled by my sudden language change. Mr. Hamilton, on the other hand, only smiled more.

"Tu parle Français?" Mr. Hamilton said. I nodded.

"Oui, je l'ai appris juste l'année dernière," I said confidently. What can I say, learning how to fluently learn, speak, read, and write in another language in only a year is impressive.

Mr. Hamilton nodded in approval. "You must be very committed to studying."

"Yes sir," I said.

"Do you study anything else?" Mr. Hamilton cocked his eyebrow, interested.

"I also study Latin, Greek, and the classics. I also do a lot of reading and writing."

A smile didn't appear on his face until I said the last subject.

"Well, (Y/N)-" We were interrupted by a huff coming from Angie.

We both turned to see Angie with her arms crossed and her shoulders hunched. I put my hands on hip.

"Oh cheer up Ang," I looked at her smiling. I tilted my head. She tried to hold back a smile, it was to no avail.

"By the way, your garden looks wonderful!" I said turning a bit toward the garden.

"It was I who did that," Angie said proudly, her head held high.

"It is indeed lovely work, Angie. You'll have to show me how to garden sometime."

Angie beamed. "Of course!" She ran up to me, grabbing my arms, giggling as she led me into the overwhelming household.

I stepped into the flamboyant house. I saw two boys playing with each other, a little girl who was just an infant, laying in a cradle, and another boy hovering above the cradle looking down on the baby. I did not see Philip however.

"Welcome to our crazy family." she held her arm out, presenting her siblings, and all eyes turned towards me.

"Ang, who is that?" a boy who looked to be at the age of five said.

"She is my friend, John," Angie replied.

"You have friends?" The other boy hovering over the baby's cradle spoke up. The three boys irrupted in waves of laughter, laughing so hard to where they were clutching their stomachs and wiping tears from their eyes.

"Ha ha very funny, Alex." Angie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Why don't you show (Y/N) around, Angie?" Mr. Hamilton said as he headed the staircase.

"Okay!" Angie once again grabbed my arm and raced me through the family room, past a beautiful dining room, and into the kitchen where I saw a slightly older woman with long black hair going down her back wearing a light blue dress.

"Mama, this is (Y/N)," Angie said, presenting me.

The woman turned around showing her perfect complexion. Her eyes, however, did seem stressed. Only a few strands of grey hair were noticeable through the sea of long black silky hair that sat atop her head. Most likely the effects of a pamphlet that was published not too long ago.

I pitied her for a moment, but it aside thinking she didn't want my condolences and be reminded of her heartbreak.

"Why (Y/N) it's such a pleasure to meet you! I finally get to put a face to the name." The lady, who I assumed to be Mrs. Hamilton, said while she hugged me.

I hugged her back, smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Ma'am," I said as we both pulled back.

"Oh please, call me Eliza!" Eliza said as she tucked strands of hair behind her ear. I laughed a little.

"I hope you don't mind my rudeness but how old are you?" Eliza said.

"Oh it's okay I don't mind. I'm 16, I said proudly. Eliza smiled widely.

"Oh okay, you're Philips age! That's wonderful!" I could a see slight smirk behind her smile but thought nothing of it.

Philip, I thought. That when I noticed the sound of a piano starting to play from just upstairs. Eliza seemed to notice too.

"Speaking of Philip, have you met him?" Eliza said. My cheeks flushed a bit but went away a second later.

"Yes, I have, actually. I met him the day I met Angie." I said.

"(Y/n) rejected him, Mama. It was pretty funny to watch." Angie interjected. Eliza smile turned into a slight frown out of annoyance.

"Ugh, I am terribly sorry for my son's behavior. We're trying to get him out of the habit of flirting with every girl he meets. It seems he just doesn't even know how he acts sometimes." Eliza said, chuckling a bit at the end.

"It's fine," I replied, laughing also.

"Well, I have to get back to making lunch. Are you joining us, (Y/n)?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrud-"

"Nonsense! We would love to have you join us."

"Well, I suppose my brother won't mind."

"Wonderful!" Eliza said with a smile on her face.

"Come on, I still haven't shown you the whole house." Angie grabbed my arm and led me upstairs where she let go of my arm.

✿

After showing me her room, the parlour, the door to her father's study, the garden and her garden, we went into the room where the music was coming from.

When I entered, I saw a big room furnished with a couch, paintings, and a fire place and a big piano near the corner. It was almost like a second living room.

The person playing piano had their back facing us. They had dark brown curly hair that went down to their shoulders. I could recognize that hair anywhere. It was Philip. He started to sing.

His voice actually wasn't all that bad.

He was singing the same song my mother used to sing to me so of course, I knew all the words.

I couldn't help myself and started singing along quietly. The sound of the piano plus his voice made the volume loud, allowing me not to be heard anyone other than Angie.

As he finished, a smirk appeared on Angie's face.

"Philip~," Angie said in a teasing tone.

Philip groaned, still facing the piano. "What do you want Angie?"

"Guess who's her," Angie said. The smirk on her face grew.

"Who?" Philip said as he turned around. As he turned around his eyes grew wide when he saw me. I put my hands on hips and a smirk on my face as he blushed suddenly.

"Oh- uh, why hello (Y/n). You came for our walk in the park didn't you." Philip said trying to play it cool. I put my hand on my stomach and leaned back a little, laughing.

"Ha! That's funny Philip. I actually came to see Angie."

"Oh. Well, okay then." Philip said as he turned around.

"But I do have to compliment you on your singing and piano playing. It was very beautiful."

"Oh, thank you," he said, still turned around. I walked over to him and sat next to him on the bench. He flinched back, surprised.

"Although, you did miss a few measures," I said, placing my fingers on the keys.

"No, I did not."

"Yes, you did Philip," I said.

"Where?" Philip said as he crossed his arms.

"After the twenty-third measure."

I started playing the twenty-second measure and carried onto the twenty-third measure, singing the verses.

"I'll fear the fear for you,  
I'll cry your tears for you.   
I'll do anything I can to make you comfortable."

I sang with passion in my voice, looking at the keys, my fingers flowing gracefully over them.

"Even if I fall down, when you're not around, don't worry 'bout me. Don't worry 'bout me."

I started to play the notes that he missed.

"I'll climb the hills you face,   
I'll do this in your place.   
I'd do anything to go through it instead of you. But even if I fall down, when you're not around.   
Don't worry 'bout me, don't worry 'bout me."

I stopped playing and heard clapping behind me. I turned around and saw Angie and Eliza standing there smiling and clapping. Apparently, while I was engrossed in playing, Angie got Eliza.

"Bravo!" Eliza said smiling. I laughed and blushed.

"You have the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. Not that you don't have a beautiful voice, Philip." Eliza said. I blushed even harder.

"Thank you, Eliza!" I turned about and saw Philip with wide eyes, crimson cheeks, and his jaw open.

He quickly shut his mouth and stopped staring and I heard Eliza and Angie both snicker behind us. I smirked at him.

I got up from the piano and stood next to Angie and Eliza.

"Philip, (Y/n), lunch is ready," Eliza said as she turned around, walking back down the hallway.

"Okay, we'll be right down," Angie said.

Philip finally got up. "You have a very pretty voice."

"I know," I said. Angie laughed. I laughed and shoved him playfully.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. We all turned and crossed the threshold into the hallway.


	5. enamors

It has been two weeks since I met the entire Hamilton family. And tonight, I was going to see them again at the Spring Ball.

For my dress, I chose a white ruffled dress with a light blue floral pattern on top.

It was the perfect dress for a sixteen year old. Not childish yet not too mature. I loved it.

I lightly applied some rouge to the apples of my (y/s/c) cheeks and to my (y/l/c) lips.

I put my hair up into a fancy bun, tightly pulling back my (y/h/c) hair, only allowing some to fall at the sides to frame my face.

"You look beautiful." I turned around suddenly, surprised by the new presence in the room. George was standing under the doorway.

"Thank you, George." I said bowing my head slightly.

"You do remember the dance lessons that you got when you were younger, right?" George said chuckling. When we were little, our parents insisted on teaching us to dance, specifically for events like this.

"Oh not at all. You know I have two left feet, George. I doubt anyone will want to ask me to dance anyway." I sighed.

"Nonsense, (y/n). Every boy will asking you to dance."

"If you say so," I said while sighing again.

George walked out. I made the finishing touches on my hair,face, and dress and then put on my favorite cloak that went perfectly with my dress. I crossed the hall and stepped into Georges room.

"George, I'm going over to Theodosias for dinner before the ball. If want to get there in time, I need to leave now. I'll see you tonight when I get home which might be a little later than usual."

That was a lie. I was actually going to Angie's house. Angie asked me when I met her family and stayed for lunch two weeks ago. But knowing how George feels about the Hamiltons, I thought it would be best if I didn't tell I him if I ever wanted to make it out the house tonight.

George didn't even look up from his desk. "Okay have fun."

I frowned a little, knowing that it was no use in trying to get his undivided attention when he was so preoccupied with his work. I left his room and exited the house, hopping in to carriage that was waiting.

✿

The ride was bumpy, yet I enjoyed every single bit of it. My excitement grew as I grew closer to the Hamilton household.

As the carriage rolled up to the large estate, I was greeted by Angie being her usual pert self. I just stepped off the last step when Angie ran up and embraced me in a hug.

"(Y/n)! You look beautiful." She said, gasping at my dress. I laughed and we both pulled away.

"As do you, Angie!" Angie blushed. She took my hand and led me inside their home, which was overwhelming as always.

"Hello (Y/n)!" I was first greeted my William as I entered.

"Why hello, William." I said nodding my head slightly. I crossed across the living room and up the stairs heading towards the library.

"(Y/n), I'll be in my room getting ready." I heard Angie exclaim as I entered the large room.

As I scanned the shelves, looking for the perfect book, I could hear sniffling from the other side of one book shelf.

I creeped over to the shelf, careful not to scare the person. I looked over to find Mr. Hamilton, sitting, silently sniffling to himself. I gasped, which slightly startled him, for I wasn't expecting to find him here, crying.

He quickly wiped away the tears as I rushed over to him. "Mr. Hamilton? What happened, are you okay?" I said helping him get up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, (Y/n). Thank you for you're help." He said, not looking up.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to get Eli-" I suddenly stopped, not daring to continue as I remembered what happened last August. He stared at the ground, and his fists started to clench, but unclenched as he took a deep breath. There was a slightly awkward silence between us, until he noticed that I was holding a book.

"What book do you have there, (Y/n)?"

"Oh, Romeo and Juliet." I said looking at the book that I took off the shelf right before I noticed Mr. Hamilton.

"Ah, you favor Shakespeare?" He said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes sir." I said. I hesitated before asking my next question.

"May I um... borrow it?"

"Yes you may, in fact, keep it." My face turned into utter shock as I looked at him with wide eyes.

"But sir,-"

"I insist! Besides, I have many copies of that classic tale." he pushed the book back into my hands and smiled. I just about to thank him when I heard Angie calling from her room.

"(Y/N)! Could you please help me with my hair? I'm having a little trouble."

I turned my head and yelled back, "Yeah, I'll be here in a second." I turned my head around and thanked Mr. Hamilton for the book. I took my newly owned book with me as I exited the library and headed to Angies room.

I went into Angie's room and set my book down on her vanity, picking up her hairbrush.

"Really? Romeo and Juliet?" Angie said as I tightly wrapped my hand around her uncontrollable curls.

"What? I haven't had the chance to read it yet." Angie rolled her eyes and put her hand on her forehead, pretending to be a damsel in destress.

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo." Angie said. I rolled my eyes and snapped back at her.

"Oh stop it. Now sit back up so I can do your hair correctly." She sat back up and continued to brush out her hair. Once I was done brushing it, I put her hair into three sections, braiding it tightly down her back. Then I put the braid around her head, making it look like a braided crown. I left two strands of hair at the temples of her head to frame her face.

As soon as I finished, Angie gasped. "How did you learn how to control such uncontrollable hair like mine?!"

My breath hitched. I was suddenly now fighting back tears. "My mother had curly hair like yours. When she got sick, she was unable to do her own hair so I had to step in and do her hair for her."

Angie's smile turned into a frown. "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Ang." I said placing my finger on her lips.

"Now, let's get our shoes on and go to that ball." I said with some prep in my voice. Her frown turned into a meek smile as she got up from her chair. She put on her shoes and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where we saw Eliza chopping vegetables. Once he heard the clatter of our heels, she turned around and gasped at the sight of us.

"Angie, (Y/N), you both look wonderful! Who did your hair Angie?" We smiled brightly at her compliment.

"Thank you Eliza," I said as I bowed my head. "(Y/N) did it. Isn't it beautiful?!" Angie turned around so her mother could see the back part of her hair .

"It's perfect. You have so much talent." She said facing me. I smiled and laughed a little. "Oh, where's Philip? Philip! Come down here, Angie and (Y/n) are about to leave." Eliza called form up stairs. As soon as she said Philips name, I got a weird feeling in my stomach.

I heard the clatter of Philips shoes across the wooden floor enter the kitchen, but then stop abruptly. I turned around to see Philips eyes widen at me in awe as his cheeks brightened.

"Hello Philip, how are you?" I said, noticing a slight blush creep up on my face.

"I'm doing swell now that I know you're here," Philip smirked. Eliza snapped at him. "Philip!"

"Sorry ma."

"Well, how about you three get going so you guys can scope out someone to dance with."

"Okay," we all said in unison.

"And Philip, behave please."

"Yes mamma." Philip responded, sighing.

"Okay now off you go. Have fun!" Eliza said as she pushed us out of the kitchen and out into the living room. We opened the front door and flooded out onto porch. The carriage waited patiently and we said our goodbyes.

Once we got into the carriage, we rode off. Angie got in first, then me, and then Philip. It was mostly Angie and I talking. Philip interjected at some points in our conversation. There was only some moments where Philip and I made small talk. We mostly talked about ourselves, and got to know each other better.

✿

As we walked through the door, I heard the live music blaring through the atmosphere as the sound of laughter, surrounded me. I smiled in excitement as I smelled strong, putrid cider. We soon separated from each other, but Angie and I kept close together.

After about thirty minutes of dancing, I noticed Angie pouting in the corner. I put my hands on my hips and mocked her, making her laugh. I went over and grabbed her two arms, pulling her onto the dance floor.

I started to spin us around in circles as the band played on and on. We twirled each other, dancing with no care in the world.

At first, we got a few glances from people around us, but soon, everyone else started to join in, making it the best night I have ever had.

Now as a young woman at the age of 16, I know I should not be having my first taste of wine. But, in the heat of the moment, I got a little caught up in all the commotion.

Soon, the heat of the room encircled me. After only three small glasses of wine, I started feeling dizzy as the world around me started to go black. This is when I remembered that I had forgotten to eat anything before arriving here. I learned over to Angie.

"Hey Angie, I'm feeling a bit woozy. I'll just be out in the hall getting some fresh air."

"Okay!"

I rushed out into the hallway and slid down the wall, catching my breath. I closed my eyes and put my head down, trying to subside the headache.

As my headache went away, I decide to go back in and dance. But just before I could stand back up, I familiar voice went through my ears.

"Hey, (Y/n), are you okay?" I lifted my droopy head up to see Philip rushing towards me.

I tried to get up. "Of course I'm fine why wouldn't I be. I just needed to fresh ai-whoops!" I tripped over my own feet as I fell into Philips chest. I looked up and laughed at him, but his face held no humor, but instead, confusion and worry.

"(Y/N)... have you been drinking?" His eyes went wide.

"Whaaat, pfff, no. Are you crazy, I'm only 17 I'm toooooo young to be drinkin' wine." I said in a hazed voice. Philips face turned into a concerned one that was full of pity.

"(Y/N), you're 16 not 17." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to lift myself off of Philips chest.

"How many glasses did you have?"

"Ummmmmm three?-I think?"

"Oh my, (Y/N), you are gonna get in so much trouble!"

"You're the one who gonna get in trouble."

"Why would I get in trouble. I haven't done anything wrong."

"You set girls up, and then you leave them. Then you move on to the next girl. I know that's what you did tonight."

"And how would you know if I did that tonight or not." Philip said slightly exasperated.

"Because.... You're the son of a whore." Philip stopped moving. His muscles tensed up and he clenched his jaw.

"Hey! Don't talk about my mother like that!-"

"I was talking about your father!" I spat.

Philips breath hitched for some reason. I brushed it off and relaxed as Philip put my arm over his shoulder.

"Okay. We're going to find Angie and then were going to go home."

"Noooo!"

"Stop (Y/N) were going home."

"But Philip!" I complained, dragging his arm back. He turned around with a flustered face.

"WERE GOING HOME!" Philip exclaimed with a raised voice. I immediately shut up and walked with him. Once we found Angie we went back into the carriage.

On the way back, I sang to myself quietly while having my head on Philips shoulder. Angie fell asleep but Philip just sat there saying nothing. I occasionally heard a sniffle come from him but thought nothing of it.

✿

Philips Pov

✿

I cried on the way back to the house. I couldn't blame (Y/n) for her words and instead blamed the alcohol for hazing her brilliant mind. (Y/n) quietly sang to herself in her beautiful voice that she possessed on the way home.

Once we got home, I carried Angie bridal style into the house. (Y/n) trailed behind me, swaying from side to side. We safely got up the stairs. I put Angie in bed and pulled out a night gown for (Y/n) to wear. There was no way in hell I was going to have her go home this late and have her get in serious trouble.

As I went back to my room, I could her (Y/n) following me. I was about to ask her why she was following me when she answered.

"Angie's bed only has room for one person. So Imma sleep in your bed with you tonight."

"Uh-ok." I turned back around and went into my room. I noticed that she was still in her dress and holding the night gown that I gave her.

"Are you going to change?" I asked. She looked up at me and turned around so that her back was facing me.

"Could you help me with the buttons and corset?" She asked tiredly. I nodded and walked over to her, undoing the buttons and untying her corset. She turned back around and faced me.

Then, she started to undress herself. It was only until after she pulled the top part of her dress down did I realize that she wasn't wearing a slip underneath her corset. Therefore, I may have seen her bosoms for a second. I quickly turned my head and shielded my eyes.

Once she was done, she hopped onto my bed and snuggled up in the covers. I pulled the sheets back on my side and got into bed. We were't facing each other, but I turned around, to get more comfortable, and then she turned around. Her eyes were closed and she slept soundlessly.

I smiled at her, seeing her beautiful face that I secretly adored so much.


	6. friendships

I woke up as beams of light shone across my face. My eyes fluttered. I could hear the sound of the birds chirping outside and the sound of (Y/n)'s slow breath. I turned over to my side to see (Y/n) peacefully sleeping. I smiled, seeing how adorable she was when she slept.

I carefully got out of bed, not trying to wake her in the process. I tamed my curls into a low ponytail, wrapping it with a ribbon, and then headed downstairs.

Upon entering, I saw my mother, exasperated, and Angie with an annoyed expression.

"What?" I said to my mother who was making breakfast.

"I went to check on you guys this morning, expecting to see (Y/n) in Angie's bed. But instead I find her in yours. Care to explain?" Ma said, putting a hand on her hip.

"She only slept in my bed because there could not possibly be a way for (y/n) to sleep comfortably in Angie's bed with her because it's so small." I said, slightly flustering.

"What happened after you got home last night." Ma said with her arms crossed. I spoke fast and nervously. "(Y/n) was not in her right mind. I gave her one of Angie's night gowns to wear and then we went to sleep. That's all that happened." I did not mention the undressing part only because I was fearful of my mothers reaction. Ma is a very sweet person, but when she's in a bad mood, you do not want to make her even angrier.

"I have an idea of what you mean by 'she was not in her right mind', but I hope I'm not correct due to the fact that she is only sixteen," I hesitated for a second, but then spoke.

"She was drunk, Ma."

My mothers face automatically held concern. But then, it held anger.

"Philip. Did you take advantage of (Y/n) last night? I swear to God if you did I'm-"

"No! No, Ma I didn't, I promise. I would never do such a thing."

Ma looked me up and down. "You better not have."

"I didn't Ma."

"Okay, I believe you." Ma then snickered for whatever reason that I have no knowledge about .

"How much did she drink last night?" Ma said with concern on her face again.

"She said she only drank three glasses of wine but God only knows how many she actually drank. I would hate for her to go home in such a state so I was wondering if she could sleep in and stay awhile until she fully recovers...?" Ma only smiled at my request.

"Of course, though, what about her family? They must be worried sick about her."

"Maybe I could stop by her house to tell of her condition?"

"Do you have her address?"

"Yes I do."

"Okay well that would work out. Take this water up to her and check to see if she's awake." Ma handed me a glass of water. I took it and walked back up the stairs.

I walked into my room and saw (Y/n) yawning. She immediately put her hands on her head and groaned. I chuckled to myself.

"Philip? What are you doing in my room." (Y/n) asked with hazed a voice. She obviously doesn't remember last night. I thought.

"Your actually in my room." I said. She finally looked around at her surroundings realizing that she was indeed in my room.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked while putting the glass of water down on the nightstand next to her.

"I actually did. But my head hurts like a motherfucker." I looked at her with a cocked eyebrow, smiling at the curse word. She put a hand on her mouth, gasping.

"Oh my, I am so sorry that was so unladylike and improper." I laughed.

"It's okay. I like improper and unladylike." She smiled, and then erupted in laughter. I too, soon erupted in laughter. God, her laugh is so beautiful. I looked at her with sweet and adoring eyes. She fell back onto the bed.

"I'm going to your household to tell of your condition. You are welcome to stay here if you would like. It will take you about half the day to recover considering the amount of wine you had last night." I was just about to head out the door when she swiftly climbed across the bed and her warm hand grabbed my arm.

"No! No, that won't be necessary. My brother won't be angry about my long absence. Please, it's okay." She said brusquely. I looked at her skeptically but then brushed it off. She let go off my arm and let out a small breath of what seemed to be relief when I walked towards her. She slightly smiled but not for long when her hand suddenly went to her mouth. She flew out of bed and ran over to an empty bin, emptying out the contents of what she consumed last night. She hovered over the bin for a few minutes and I hovered over her rubbing reassuring circles on her back. Once she was done, she wiped her mouth clean. She drank some of the water I gave her and started to fix her hair.

We all headed down stairs and were greeted by the rest the rest of my family.

✿

"Hey, um, (Y/n)?" I asked hesitantly. I had to tell her about last night or else I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

She turned towards me. We had just finished breakfast and now we're cleaning up.

"Can I talk to you outside?" I asked. She looked at me quizzically.

"Yeah...?" She said. I led her onto the front porch and sat down.

"Um... about last night." I began. "How much do you remember?"

"The only thing I can recall from last night is was you helping me get up from sitting on my drunk ass in a hallway."

"Oh..."

"Why? What happened afterwards?" She asked anxiously.

"Well... when we got home, I gave you one of Angie's night gowns to wear last night and you asked me if I could help you unbutton your dress and untie your corset.." I paused waiting for an initial reaction.

"Okay... go on,"

"And, after I was done, you started to undress... in front of me," I said, tensed up as I prepared myself for the impact of a slap to my face.

"You what?!" I cowered back at her response. I opened my eyes and saw her with her head in her hands.

"How much did you see," she asked in a low voice.

"Only your chest," I said.

"Okay, then how much of my chest did you see?"

"I'm really sor-"

"How. Much. Did. You. See?" She raised her voice, desperate for an answer.

"Everything."

(Y/n) groaned in her hands. "(Y/n) I'm really, truly sorry about that. But, I did turn around the second you were exposed."

"It's okay, I believe you." I smiled and let out a sigh of relief. We sat there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes until we decided to go back inside.

The day was awkwardly quiet. (Y/n) spent most of the day with Angie, so we really didn't talk. It was mid-day when we suddenly heard loud crying form upstairs. My mind raced and so did my body as I ran up the stairs. I stopped at the top to find the source of the crying.

The crying was coming from Ma's room. I ran down the hall and stopped when I saw Pops with his head in his hands. I went up to him. He looked at me with red, puffy eyes. I glowered down at him.

"What did you do?" I asked in a cold, low voice.

He shook his head and tried to speak, "I-I"

I ignored him and went into the room. I saw Ma sitting on the floor at the foot bed sobbing into her. I rushed over and kneeled down, embracing her in a hug.

"What happened?" I asked to which she did not reply. "Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. I'm here Ma." I leaned my head on her shoulder. She quieted down, but still sobbed quietly. Anger grew inside as I sat there.

I swiftly got up and and strode out the door and found my father still sitting outside her door. My anger was now controlling me.

"What happened?" I raised my voice, almost yelling at him. My fists and teeth clenched up.

"I just tried to make amends with her, that's all." My brows furrowed.

"Then why is she crying?!" I asked, now yelling.

"I-I don't know." He blubbered.

"NO! You did something to her. WHAT DID YOU-" "Philip?"

A meek voice interrupted me. I whipped my body around and saw (Y/n) standing in the middle of the hallway. My fists and teeth immediately unclenched and my eyes went wide when I saw the fear in hers.

"What's wrong?" She asked dementedly.

I shook my head and tried to wave her off. "It's nothing you need to worry about, (Y/n)." I said maybe a little to sternly. She slowly inched closer to my mothers bedroom.

"Is that your mother crying?" She continued to slowly walk towards the door but flinched when I moved in her way a bit.

"Yes, it is, but don't go in she-" I stopped talking as she pushed past me and opened the door. The door closed with a click.

✿

Your Pov

✿

The door closed behind me with a click.

I saw her seated on the floor with her head in her arms, tuning out the world with her sobs. I sat down next to her, putting my arms around her. He breath hitched and she suddenly stopped crying as she felt my unfamiliar arms embracing her. She slowly lifted her head, surprised at my reassurance. We made eye contact, and she smiled weakly while I gave her pity through my eyes. Then she leaned over and put her head on my shoulder .

I comforted her, and sang her a lullaby: 

 

When the candle flickers and burns bright,

know your safe and sound tonight.

I am here, so take your time.

Rest you head and you'll sleep just fine.

 

When you awake, it will be day.

Now, rest your head and lay.

You will dream of the wonders,

and the hopes we share.

And I will be the one who guides you there. 

 

When the candle flickers and burns bright,

know your safe and sound tonight.

I am here, so take your time.

Rest you head and you'll sleep just fine.

 

It felt weird, but normal as she fell asleep in my arms.

About ten mins later, Eliza was still asleep in my arms. I was about to gently help her up to bed when I heard the door knob turn slightly and in came Philip. I put a finger over my mouth, signaling for him to be quiet. He came over and stared at his mother adoringly. I leaned over and whispered into his ear.

"Can you help me get her into bed please?" I asked. He nodded and we slowly picked her up and tucked her into bed.

We walked outside of her room. I sighed, tired from the long day.

"Thank you," Philip said.

"Oh, your welcome," I said. We walked down the stairs in awkward silence. When we got to the bottom, I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Hey, let's find Angie and your other siblings and go to park or something of the sort," I said, playfully shoving him on the arm. He smiled and nodded, slightly blushing.

✿

We found Angie tending to her garden outside. When we asked her if she wanted to come along, she happily accepted. We soon found the rest of Hamilton children playing in their rooms quietly. They came along too.

We left the house and walked to a nearby park. We walked slowly, taking in the breeze that would blow my hair out of place occasionally. Once we reached the park, we placed the blankets down on the fresh green grass. The children played, while Philip and I sat on the blanket, watching them. I laid down on the ground watching the clouds slowly pass by. I could feel Philip's gaze on me, but I just ignored it. He soon laid down beside me with his hands behind his head. The breeze skimmed over out bodies as we silently gazed up at the sky.

I felt like drifting off the sleep as I closed my eyes. But before I could, I heard screams coming from up top a hill. Philip and I immediately shot up, searching for the mouth from which the scream came from. We saw John chasing Angie. We sighed in relief that no one was injured and laughed at their antics. I decided to get up and join in on the game, leaving Philip.

"Hey what are you all playing?" I said while running over to them. "We're playing tag!" Alexander Jr. said. (A/n: I have no idea if tag was even a game back them but for the sake of the story, tag is game.)

"Can I play?"

"Yeah of course!" John said.

"Okay." I said.

"You're it!!" John exclaimed as he touched me lightly on the arm and sprinted away laughing. I laughed as I sprinted towards him. He was too fast for me, so I veered towards Alex. At first, he didn't see me, so when he did, he shrieked in fright and then started to run away. He wasn't fast enough for I caught up to him all to soon. Right as I was about to tag him, he swerved his body as my finger brushed across the sleeve of his shirt. I was not aware of why he swerved in a different direction but I soon found as my body clashed with the person that Alex was trying to avoid collision with. We both fell onto the ground. I turned my head to see Angie laying next to me. We both looked at each other then suddenly erupted in laughter. We laughed like mad men, clutching our stomachs and rolling in the grass not caring that our dresses were receiving stains.

We tried to catch our breath, but it was to no avail. We were still laughing by the time Philip came running, breathing heavily.

"Hey are you both alright?" Philip asked.

I gasped for air as I responded. "Yeah!"

Philip shook his head jokingly as he first helped Angie up. Philip then came over to me and out his arms. I put out my arms, grasping his. Philip pulled me up to my feet, laughing at our immaturity. Angie and I both brushed off our dresses as Philip collected the rest of the kids and waked back to the blankets, picking up and folding them. The sun was starting to set with I finally remembered that I still have yet to return home and explain last night to George. I know a scolding was on it's way for me.

"Philip, I should really be getting home, my brother must be very worried about me." Philip looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

"Wait, let me at least walk you home." He said grabbing my hand. I looked at him deeply, attempting to read his eyes. I giggled slightly.

"Your siblings can't walk themselves home, Philip. Someone's got to accompany them." I said looking at his siblings, who were still running around us.

"But someone's got to accompany you home, (Y/n)." He almost whined. I giggled again.

"I'll be fine, Philip. Please, I'm highly capable of walking home on my own." I said placing a hand of his shoulders. He sighed in defeat.

"Okay." I frowned.

"I'll see you guys soon! Tell you mother I said thank you for her hospitality." I said waving off as I turned around, and headed for home.

Anxiety grew upon me as I came close to home. I feared the scolding that I would definitely get from George.

As I approached the front porch, I took a deep breath, and opened the door.

✿


	7. galled

I slowly closed the door, weary at the fact that George was home. As I crossed the living room, I heard a sharp voice yell my name.

"(Y/n)!" George yelled behind me. I slowly turned around to find George, livid.

"Where the hell have you been?!" He exclaimed. I already flinched back from the sound of his voice rising and my eyes already started to brim with tears. I hesitated before answering, because I had to come up a good excuse. I said the fist thing I thought of.

"I was at Theodosia's before and after the party," I said, sweating nervously. Shit. What if he went over to Theodosia's house earlier only to not find me there? I got even more skittish as he scoffed.

"Then why weren't you there this morning when I went looking for you, huh?! I went all over town searching for you!" He said. I hung my head in slight guilt and closed my eyes, hoping that this was just all a dream, and that when I opened my eyes, everything would just go away.

I opened my eyes; Nope, not a dream.

"I was actually at a friends house. Her family insisted that I stay because we got home so late at night." Technically, that wasn't a lie, but George's expression didn't change. "Do I know this friend?"

"Um no, actually, I just met her a few weeks ago." That also wasn't a lie.

"Oh really, then what's her name?"

"Um.. Catherine," I sad in my most convincing voice. He still searched me with his eyes. Knowing how protective he is over me, I presumed he looked for any indication that I had an encounter with a boy. He started to walk up to me with his eyes narrowed on my arm.

"Then why is there a bruise on your arm?" He questioned. He held my arm, tightly, almost to the point of pain. My presumption was right yet again. I looked at him in disgust and yanked my arm away. I looked at the purple bruise planted on my right arm. I must have gotten it when I either collided with Angie or when I fell down.

I scoffed, "Are you accusing me of have sex with a boy?" I narrowed my eyes at him. He cringed at the word being spoken from my mouth.

"Well did you?" He asked.

"Of course not! Why in the world would you think that? I am merely sixteen and you have the audacity to assume I had sex with a boy just because I have a bruise on my arm!?" We were now yelling at each other, filling up the house with our voices. Tears were still falling down my cheeks as we bickered back and forth.

"I assume that only because you go off to a ball and don't come home that night, and then you don't come home the next day until sunset! And when you do show up, you look disheveled and have a bruise on your arm, and what are the chances of you having more than just one bruise on your body!"

"We went to the park and I fell down while running! I can't believe you would think that I would just let myself go like that. Do you think I'm desperate to experience the life of a married woman? Or do you think I want to become a whore that works in brothels her whole life?!" Again, George cringed form the word coming from my mouth.

"No I don-"

"Then why would you think that I would have sex with someone?!" Tears were streaming down my face harder than ever. I was practically sobbing, yelling into his face.

"Because you're young and-"

"And what? Vulnerable? Helpless? Don't know better? Well I can assure you that I am fully capable of fending for myself, making rational decisions and definitely capable of choosing between right and wrong for my age." My voice began to rise even louder as I continued. "I am not a delicate little flower-"

*smack*

Before I could even process it, my cheek started to burn. I could feel the sting on my cheek as it turned red. I was in shock at that moment, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. My eyes went wide as I slowly pressed my cold hand onto my hot cheek, wincing from the pain. This, was the different side of George: The violent side of George; one that I hadn't seen in a long time. I could feel his cold, but livid gaze staring down on me. I looked at the ground, silently sobbing. That's all I could do. My breath was heavy, low. I decided to be the first one to flee the horrid scene that had just taken place. I ran; I ran up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. I threw myself onto the bed and quietly sobbed alone.

✿

The pillows were stained with tears. The tears that fell from my eyes soothed the cheek upon which George slapped me. My eyes were red and puffy. My breathing had stated to slow down once I heard George leave our estate. I got up form my bed, slowly. I had exerted all my energy into crying to the point of which my head hurt. Before I actually went out of my room, I made my way over to the desk in my room and sat down. I lit the candle an grabbed and piece of parchment paper. Uncapping the pot of ink, I dipped my quill into the onyx ink and started to write.


	8. help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: panic attack

Dear Angie..

My mind went blank. I had no idea what to write. I rubbed my temples in attempt to conjure something up. I felt like banging my head on the desk.

It was now midnight. I had been at my desk for five hours, staring blankly at the unfinished letter. George had not returned home since our dispute. I decided that instead of trying to write, I would take a walk. I got up from my creaky desk and put on my cloak, putting up the hood to conceal the ugly, red mark imprinted onto my cheek. I headed out the back door instead of the front.

Throughout the first part of the walk, all was quiet. It was calming as the night breeze swept my face. I was then reminded of the dangers of walking at night, especially for a young girl like me, so I decided to go to the Hamilton's. I needed somewhere to go, somewhere I could talk to the people whom I trusted most.

I hastily walked to the Hamilton's household, being ever so aware of my surroundings, afraid that George would see me enter their house. I saw a candle holder on the side of their house, indicating that someone was home. I walked up to the door with my hood still covering my face.

I looked down at my feet when I knocked on the door, and still looked down when someone answered it. I was greeted by a tired Eliza Hamilton in her nightgown.

"Hello, (Y/n), what are you doing here at such an ungodly hour?" She asked sleepily. She motioned for me to come inside, so I entered the house. I walked past her with my head down, not saying anything. We were in the living room. Eliza looked at me, waiting for me to answer. I struggled with my words, stuttering on every syllable.

"Is Angie here?" I finally managed to say clearly. She looked at me with a questioning look. I did not want to look up, in fear of the reaction she would have towards my cheek. Only my eyes looked up to hers, which were filled concern and confusion.

"Um...Yes.. Is something wrong?" Eliza questioned, most likely because I was asking for Angie in the middle of the night.

"Everythingisabsolutelyfine," I said way to quickly. She did not leave it though. Instead, she still stood there, and waited for me to tell the truth. I stated to quiver, anxious by the silence.

"(Y/n), what happened?" She asked slowly, but sternly. I didn't respond, instead, I pulled my hood over my head even more, ensuring that she would not see my cheek. She wouldn't give up. So, I gave up my efforts. I sighed, pulling back the hood of my cloak to reveal the bright red hand mark on my cheek. Tears began to slide down my cheeks as Eliza gasped and rushed towards me, putting her arms around me comfortingly.

"Dear God, what happened?!" She asked in a frantic voice. I didn't respond, sobbing. I collapsed to the ground, clutching my cheek and chest. My breath went faster, my chest grew tighter, my head was starting to spin. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I struggled for air, my breath hitching with every sob. Eliza tried to calm be down, but it was no use.

"Breathe, (Y/n), breathe, c'mon, slowly," She cooed, but it was not helping in any way. I put my hand around my throat, signaling that I couldn't breathe from choking on every sob. Everything became a blur in that moment: Eliza's voice became distant as the voice in my head became louder. My brain swirled with thoughts each second while struggling to gain and control a normal heartbeat. I looked around anxiously, fearful that George would see me here. I heard a different voice in the distance. It was Philip's voice. 

✿

Phillips POV

✿

"Mom, what's wr-" I stopped at top of the stairs abruptly. I thought I heard my mother sobbing, but instead, I saw (Y/n) in a despairing state in my mothers arms and on the living room floor. He chest heaved up and down as I saw that she was struggling to breathe. My eyes widened at the sight. I had never seen someone in such a state, so I didn't know how to react.

"Shh! You'll wake up the entire house!" My mother whispered loudly. "Now, come down here and help me calm her down." I rushed down the stairs and got closer to (Y/n)'s quivering body. Her head moved around, almost as if she was looking out for something, or someone. I could see the red mark on her face that indicated a slap. She looked at me in fear.

I reached out my hand to her face to which she reacted by cowering in fear and scooting away from me. Eliza moved towards her once again, and so did I, but slowly. I was careful not fright her this time. She looked at me, up and down. I reached out to her again, slowly. Her head moved back as I reached out. She closed her eyes as breathed even heavier. When my head touched her red cheek, she winced, and looked me in the eyes.

I could see the fear and anxiety behind her eyes. I smiled softly at her, cupping her cheek in my hand. I used my other free hand to pet her gently. My finger ran though her (h/c) hair for about a minute until her breathing slowed and her sobs became less frequent. I took her from my mothers arms, putting her body in mine.

I held her, cradling her like a young baby. I pulled her closer to my chest like a mother would. Momma smiled at my accomplishment and went up the stairs. I stayed there, rocking her back and fourth, lulling her until she fell asleep in my arms.

I barely managed to pick her up bridal style and put her onto the couch. She was in a deep sleep, unable to hear the world around her. I adjusted a pillow to comfort her aching head and covered her body with a soft blanket.


	9. inquiries

I woke up in a pitch black room. No candle illuminated the room, making it hard for me to see. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see the outline of the hearth and the couch straight across from me. I figured I was in the Hamiltons living room, considering the events of last night. I couldn't tell what time it was, but I needed to get home before George did.

I decided to get up and look for a candle. But instead of looking, I found a candle set with a box of matches next to it on the windowsill just above the couch I had slept on. I slid a match across the grate of the box, igniting it. I lit the candle and raised it to light up the room. I slowly walked up the staircase to wake Eliza and tell her that I was departing. I passed by each of the open rooms, seeing a child in each of them, sleeping and dreaming soundly. As I went past the third room, I noticed the flickering of a candle coming from a small room. I peeked in to see Mr. Hamilton staring at a letter between his fingertips. I slowly opened the door, hoping that I would not alarm him. He turned his head, noticing my presence.

"(Y/n), you are supposed to be resting. Do you need anything?" Mr. Hamilton said, concerned.

"I'm doing fine, but I do need to get home. I was wondering if you would accompany me? I would normally walk myself home but who knows what dangerous things going on at this hour." I said, nervous that he would reject my request.

"I'm glad you're feeling better but I insist that you stay and rest. The more rest the better with your condition," He offered. I shook my head.

"I must reject your notion, sir, for I would like to get home before my brother does. I would hate for him to worry again," I said. Mr. Hamilton pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, considering it.

"Was it him who slapped you?" He asked. I kept my composure, refusing to cry again. I sighed, looking down in shame.

"Yes," I suddenly looked up at him. "But it was my fault. I talked back to him, actually, yelled back at him. I even cursed him, basically calling him a bastard," I said looking down in guilt and shame.

He looked at me, surprised as the evil words rolled off my tongue. I was on the verge tears, yet I still kept my composure. "He rarely lashes out like that so I'll be okay." I gave Mr. Hamilton a reassuring smile, while he gave me a skeptical look. After about a minute of considering, Mr. Hamilton obliged. I let out I silent sigh of relief as he got from his desk. As he stood up, I could see he was still in his attire from the day before.

He put on his shoes, while I went to go reach for my cloak. I found it on the coat rack by the front door. I stood the front door, waiting for Mr. Hamilton. He came down the stairs for his coat, before opening the door which let in the cool night wind.

The sky was still dark when we started to walk on the sidewalk. It was quiet most of the way. For some reason, I wasn't in a rush to get home like I usually am. It was quiet until Mr. Hamilton broke the silence.

"(Y/n), I don't think I ever got the chance to fully acquaint myself with you. Nor have you. Although, because I have the occupation of a government official, I'm sure you've overheard some talk of me," He chuckled. I nervously laughed along with him. If I were to continue my visits, I had to lie. Who knows what would happen if Mr. Hamilton found out that I was related to a Democratic-Republican who serves for the New York Assembly.

"It seems we haven't. Well, my surname is William, making me (Y/n) Williams. I have an older brother who is in his early twenties. My mother died a few years ago, and my father left my brother and me shortly after. So it's just my brother and I left to take care of the house, along with my servant, Ruth. Although, she is more of a companion to me than a chattel. We grew up together, but, it sometimes pains me to see how Ruth can't have as much of an education I have and how she can't relax because she does housework most of the time. When George isn't home, I help her out with the chores, washing dishes and doing laundry, but, when George is home, Ruth gets intimidated and insists that I don't do her work for her, fearing she'll receive a reprimand, or even worse. George managed to obtain a decent-paying job, but unfortunately, he isn't home for most of the week. He's a loving and caring brother, however, he does have a short fuse,"

"I understand," He said. I looked up at him, a very small smile appearing on my face.

"You do?"

"Of course. I rarely talk about my past, but you've been through the same ordeals I have been through, so surely we can relate to each other. My father left my family too when I was eight years of age. Two years later, my mother and I both fell ill, but only I survived. But instead of losing hope and staying a helpless orphan for the rest of my life, I decided that I needed to work to the top. And here I am now, living a wonderful life with my family, and very good friends with the George Washington. Although, Jefferson is a pain," He said. I laughed at the mention of Jefferson being a pain.

My brother looked up to him in adoration, while I looked up to him with mixed views. I didn't know how I felt about the cocky, arrogant Francophile who always wore that hideous bright, magenta outfit. I never really understood his views, although I'll most likely understand them in later years.

The rest of the stroll fell silent, and so was the world around me. It was unusual and rare for New York to be so quiet at night, so I enjoyed it while I still could. We approached my house only five minutes later.

"This is my house," I said, pointing at the small, two-story, cottage-like home that I've lived my entire life in. Mr. Hamilton looked over to where I was pointing.

"Oh okay," He simply responded. We walked up the pathway leading to the front door. On my way up, I didn't see the candle flickering in the windowsill that always indicated if George was home or not.

"Is your brother home?" Mr. Hamilton asked. I shook my head, sighing.

"No, I didn't really anticipate him being here anyways," I said disappointedly. When we got to the front door, I thanked him, and then went inside only to be confronted by Ruth doing patchwork. She looked up at me, then looked back down and continued using her skilled hand to sew a ripped-up sleeve

"I figger Mr. Hamilton is now a friend of yours?" Ruth asked. I laughed a little at her assumption.

"Merely. More of an accquaintence, really. Although, I am more than acquainted with his children, specifically his two eldest: Angie and Philip," I said, hanging my cloak onto the coat rack. Ruth looked up at and stared me straight in the eyes, an eyebrow raised and a devilish smile upon her clear face.

"Philip Hamilton? I thought you hated him? And now, you're courting him?" I made a disgusted face, and Ruth snickered.

"No, no no it's not like that! I'm not courting him, nor will I ever court him."

Ruth was unconvinced and still held the grin on her face. "Whatever you say.."

"Even if I wanted to, I couldn't because of George! He's a Hamilton, remember? The son of the person George hates most?"

"You could always court in secret, (Y/n)"

"I could, but I don't know if I would be able to keep a secret for that long, Ruth." Ruth shrugged her shoulders.

"There's no reason you can't try."

I rolled my eyes and laughed a little. I walked upstairs and into my bedchambers, falling aimlessly onto the bed, tired from everything that had happened. I slipped under the covers and fell into a deep sleep.


	10. 1799

✿

 

Part Two 

1799

 

✿


	11. sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a happy chapter

"Angie!"

I saw Angie on the porch of her house, anxiously sitting on the brick steps. Instead of walking the rest of way, I ran.

"Angie!" I yelled, still running. She perked up at the sound of her name and immediately smiled. This was the first time I've seen her since I departed from New York that dewy spring morning in March. I traveled to London to study the art pieces of famous artists such as Allan Ramsey, who was the official painter to King George the Third.

Two days ago when I returned, I saw a letter written to me. Philip had written to me announcing that he was coming home from King's College for the summer. I was thrilled upon hearing the news. Today was the day that he was to arrive. My opinion and feelings never changed from when I first met him last March. I still considered him to be a noxious, addlepated person who still fooled around with different girls.

"(Y/n)!"

Angie's smile was brighter than the sun. She stood up and ran towards me. We met on the sidewalk, embracing each other tightly. I realized how much I missed her warm and inviting spirit. We finally let go and walked back the house, which was only a few steps away. I could hear the same sounds coming from the house that I grew to love over the past year.

"Do you want to stay outside and wait for Philip with me? He's going to arrive any minute now," Angie said pleadingly.

"I would love to Ang, but I think I should say hello to the rest of your family first, right? But afterward, I will don't worry," I said.

"Fine," she mumbled, pouting with her arms crossed.

I laughed and opened the door. Upon entry, I saw Eliza sitting in a chair and reading a book. Noticing my presence, she looked up and smiled immediately.

"(Y/n)!" Eliza set down her book and got up from her chair, rushing over to me. As she hugged me, I could feel something in between us that prevented us from hugging all the way. I pulled away slightly while she held onto my arms, looking at me delightedly. I looked down, seeing her growing belly. I gasped and smiled as I came to a realization.

"Eliza... are you?..." He nodded her head, smiling wider than the sky. I squealed, smiling excitedly. She laughed at my reaction.

"That's so exciting!"

"Not as exciting as your trip to London. How was it?" We let go and went back over to the couch, sitting down contently.

"It was wonderful, the scenery was beautiful, and I got the chance to see your sister, Angelica," I said. Eliza's face lit up at the mention of her older sisters name. Angelica has a powerful soul. She is manipulative and, actually, very intimidating. She was the most independent woman I've ever met. Her integrity and elegance were her best attributes that made her such a wonderful person. We've met before when my mother used to enjoy tea gatherings with her when I was younger.

"You know Angelica?" Eliza asked. I nodded. "Indeed. My mother used to have tea gatherings with her when I was younger. The last time I saw her before my trip was a few weeks before my mother died,"

The words came out casually. No emotion. No tears. My mother's death became a memory that I now think about occasionally instead of each night.

Noticing that the room had gotten warmer, after only five minutes of talking, I noticed a bead of sweat on Eliza's brow. She used her hand as a fan in an attempt to cool her down. "Would you like for me to open the window?" I asked.

"Yes, Please," Eliza responded. I reached over the couch and unlatched the window.

As I was about the sit back down, we heard someone yell happily.

"Philip!"

Both of our heads perked up at the sound of his name. Eliza called everyone down. I stayed in the back, making sure Philip was first greeted with family, and then friends. We all rushed out the door and saw the footman retrieving Philip's luggage. The door of the carriage swung open, revealing a groggy Philip who looked like he had slept the entire way. I laughed to myself at his appearance. He perked up at the sight of his family. The first to hug him was Angie, who hugged him so tight it looked like she was going to squeeze him to death like a snake.

One by one, each Hamilton greeted him. When it came to my turn, I couldn't hold in my excitement. As soon as the path was clear, I ran towards him.

Now, I know it's improper for a lady to hug a guy that isn't her father, brother, or the person she's courting, but when was I ever lady-like? So I ran up to him, wrapping my arms around his, hugging him. Philip was surprised by my action and stepped back when I basically shifted my weight onto his body. I looked up to him smiling innocently, feeling his skin rise in temperature as all the blood in his body rushed up towards his cheeks, making them a dark crimson color. He finally hugged back, seeming to be in shock.

I let go when I heard snickering from Alexander Jr. and James. I felt my face heat up slightly when I looked to see every Hamilton staring at us. Eliza smirked at Philip and motioned for everyone to go back inside, leaving Philip and me alone outside. Philip and I looked at each other. He seemed to be in shock, not blinking.

"How was school?" I asked gingerly.

He finally blinked. "Oh! Uh, yeah! It was good. More expectations and studying, but, it's still good."

"Did you finally make some friends?" I joked. He scoffed, "I have friends. Many, in fact, unlike you," He smirked. I let out a solemn laugh. "Actually, now that I think about it, you're actually right," I said in a serious tone. His smiled faded. For a few seconds, he looked at me guiltily. Seeing his face, I erupted in laughter, only leaving Philip to tilt his head in confusion.

"What's so funny?" He asked as I wiped a tear from my eye.

"Your reaction," I said between laughs. He laughed along nervously. I stopped laughing and smiled brightly at him.

"You're right Philip, I don't have many friends, but I do have you and Angie, and that's enough,"

The confusion washed away from his face and was replaced by a genuine smile. 

 

☼

Philip and I had time to catch up on each other's lives. As we conversed, I noticed how tall he had gotten in only a few short months. It made me feel smaller, meeker. I didn't like it. We talked for what seemed like hours, making each other laugh. I looked in my best friend's eyes, seeing a sweet but passionate spark, glistening with a sort of compassion, tenderness, warmth. It almost made me question our friendship, specifically how he felt about me.

I lost track of the time, realizing that I still needed to run an important errand.

"Hey, Philip, I need to go to the tailor shop to try on a dress. Would you mind joining me?" I asked Philip.

"Sure, but, why me? Why not Angie?"

"Philip, a lady's opinion about another, specifically when fitting for a dress, only does so much. I need a man's opinion to waver my decision about which dress I should choose to purchase,"

"Oh. In that case, let me inform my parents of our departure," He ran up the stairs and told his mother. He rushed back down the stairs. I laughed quietly to myself seeing how hurried he was.

"Philip, we don't need to rush. It is merely three o'clock,"

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, barely out of breath.

"I know," He said simply.

"Oh, well are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," I laughed quietly again as we walked out the door. We talked most of the way into town, making jokes with each other.

We finally reached the tailor shop that I was most accustomed with. But before I was able to enter, Philip grabbed my arm gently, stopping me.

"Hey, I know another shop right down the street from here. I'm very good friends with the owner. How about we go to that one instead?"

I shrugged my shoulders, figuring that I should see what else is waiting to be fitted.

"Oh, okay,"

We walked down the street until we stopped in front of a small shop.

We entered, immediately greeted by a burly man, one who didn't look like the one to take up the job of a tailor.

"Philip! Haven't seen you in a while. How's your father doing?" The man boomed cheerfully. I flinched at how loud his voice was. He held a contagious smile, a smile similar to Philip's. His contagious smile made me do the same.

"Hey Herc! My father is doing well, thanks," Philip said smiling.

"That's good," The man finally noticed me and instantly smirked at Philip, something that has become prevalent when we are seen together by fellow friends and family.

"Ah, Philip, I see you have brought a lady with you from college, huh?" He said. I immediately stifled a laugh, only a snicker passing through. Philip's cheeks went red with embarrassment.

☼

Philip's POV

☼

I winced at the words the came out of Herc's mouth. I had always felt for (Y/n) in a way that went beyond a mere friendship. However, (Y/n) didn't feel for me in the same way. I became used to the words though. Wherever we go, the smirking and teasing travel with us. We have both learned to get used to it, but, every time, it reminds that we will never court due to (Y/n) independent demeanor and loathing towards me. I went along with the joke this time.

"No, Herc, she is just a friend. We're not courting," I stepped closer to Hercules, leaning over the counter that went in between our bodies. I leaned close and whispered into his ear.

"Not yet at least,"

Herc light smile turned into a devilish grin, leaving (Y/n) to ponder the words I whispered into Herc's ear.

I strode back over to (Y/n), walking past her and towards the rack of dresses. I began to browse through the selection of dresses casually while (Y/n) introduced herself to Herc.

After introducing herself, she walked over to where I was standing and began to look through the dresses. "What style of dress are you searching for, (Y/n)?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Any dress that will not cause me to overheat during this searing summer," We both laughed.

I got to the last few dresses when I came across a beautiful, simple dress.

I got to the last few dresses when I came across a beautiful, simple dress

It would look perfect on (Y/n).  
"Hey, (Y/n), how about this one?" She turned toward me, her eyes lighting up in awe at the sight of the dress and smiled brightly. God, she has such a beautiful smile. I smiled back seeing her excitement. She took the dress out of my hands and raced towards the fitting rooms.

As I waited for her, Herc and I made small talk.

"How long have you and (Y/n) been friends?" Herc asked, leaning on the counter in front of him. I pulled up a chair that was set out for people to sit in when waiting and sat down.

"Since last March," I said. He nodded in understanding.

"Has she fallen for you yet?" Herc asked, grinning.

"Unfortunately, no. She's not like the other girls. She's stubborn. Independent. I have a feeling she loathes me in a way, so I doubt she will ever see the reason to court me," I said solemnly. It was fortunate that the fitting rooms were not in earshot of our conversation.

Hercules nodded again. "She sounds like your aunt, Angelica," We both laughed until Herc motioned his head towards someone behind. I turned around and saw (Y/n), looking at herself at herself in the big, three-angled mirror. She seemed to be questioning herself on how she looked, but to me, she looked stunning.

Herc made his way over, studying her to see if alterations needed to be made. I got up from the stool and walked over to (Y/n). I stood facing her side. She turned to where she was facing me.

(Y/n) looked absolutely beautiful in the dress. It made me gawk at her in awe. She caught my stare and laughed softly.

"How does it look?"

I wanted to tell her that I loved it on her. That she looked like the prettiest girl on the Earth. Looking at her made my heart flutter.

"It looks perfect," I smiled at her. She pursed her lips with self-doubt.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course! That dress was made for you," I reassured her. She smiled softly.

"Thank you,"

(Y/n) began to spin in the dress, making the gown fan out around her. She started laughing, twirling around playfully. Herc joined along in the laughter, seeing how cheerful she was.

She became light-headed from the spinning and stopped, catching her breath and laughing while trying to find her balance. I laughed with her when she tripped over the skirt, quickly catching herself and finding her own balance again.

"Do any alterations need to be made Mr. Mulligan?" (Y/n) asked.

"Not that I can see. It fits you just right,"

"Okay, then I'll go change," (Y/n) said, picking the skirt up and walking down from the podium, trotting off into the fitting rooms once again. I went back to the counter with Herc to pay for the dress.

I handed Herc the coins from my pocket.

"I could've paid for the dress myself, you know," I turned around and saw (Y/n) with the dress in one hand and a little coin purse in the other.

"I know, it's just the gentleman thing to do. Besides, my mother would've scolded me if I didn't,"

"Well, thank you, Philip," she said, grinning softly.

"Your welcome," I said, returning the smile.

I turned back to Hercules. "Thank you, Hercules," I said, bowing my head.

"It was my pleasure. I hope to see you two again soon," he said. (Y/n) and I turned around and walked towards the exit.

"Oh! Tell your father I said hello!" Herc yelled behind. I turned around and waved to the man my father fought with on the front lines.

"I will! Bye!"

"Bye!"

The door closed and (Y/n) were faced with the afternoon sun. We walked down the sidewalk, making our way through the crowded town center.

"I told my brother that I wouldn't be home till later," (Y/n) said.

"How late?"

"Around ten o'clock. I told him that I would be accompanied home. He shouldn't be home by then, anyways. He's usually still out somewhere or at work,"

"Oh okay," I simply said.

After about twenty minutes, we made it home. It was only four o'clock in the afternoon by the time we made it back.

When we entered the house, we were greeted by James. Angie was working in the kitchen with Mom. Alex Jr. and John were playing with William in the living room. (Y/n) put her dress on the chair by the door, setting it down gently to ensure no wrinkles would form. We both greeted everyone and I went upstairs while (Y/n) stayed downstairs.

When I told Pops that I saw Hercules, he seemed surprised that he was living in New York. He smiled when I told him, happy that he was still alive and well. (a/n: unlike someone *cough* laurens *cough*)

When I went back into the living room, I saw (Y/n) playing with James, John, and William, but specifically William. (Y/n) tickled him, which made William emit his precious laugh into the air. She would bounce him on the floor and then lift him up into the air like he was flying. As I saw (Y/n) playing with him, I couldn't help but think of how good of a mother (Y/n) would be.

Seeing her play with William only made me desire her more.


	12. stars

✿

Philips' POV

✿

 

I paced around my room.

Why was I pacing? Maybe it was because (Y/n) was coming over for dinner? Of course, it was because (Y/n) was coming over for dinner. (Y/n) has been over for dinner a myriad of times before, so why am I suddenly so nervous?

I started to sweat from swarming my mind with too many thoughts. I rushed over to my dresser, pulling out a small drawer full of blue ribbons that I usually stole from Angie. As I was about to tie my hair back, someone knocked on my door.

"Who is it?" I called out. I began to pull my hair back as the person behind the door answered.

"It's me!" The person said. The words were muffled by the thick door, but I could easily recognize (Y/n)s voice. I let go of my hair and froze.

I shook my head and began to pull back my hair again.

"Come in," I called back. The door opened with a creek and in came (Y/n), wearing a simple, free-flowing dress and her hair in a simple braid. I looked at her, smiling when we made eye contact.

"What're you doing?" she asked in her silvery voice. She pulled out the chair of my desk and sat down facing towards me.

"Trying to tie my hair back," I responded breathily. I fiddled with the ribbon, struggling to tie it in a bow.

"More like struggling," she snickered. I let go of my hair and sighed in defeat. I hadn't tied my hair back in so long it seems like I forgot how. She got up from the chair and walked up behind me.

"May I?" She asked, smiling smugly. She held out her hand and waited for me to place the ribbon in it, knowing I wouldn't decline her offer.

"Fine," I huffed. (Y/n) laughed slightly when I placed the ribbon in her hand. She walked back to my desk and pulled out the chair, signaling for me to sit.

"You're too tall for me so I'm going to need you to sit down," She said as I walked over.

(Y/n) started at the top of my head, combing my hair back with her fingers. Moving to the middle of my head, she took a lock of hair from the middle and from the sides and began to braid them, gradually adding a piece with each twist. I could feel her skilled hands pick up and intertwine each piece of hair with ease. It only took about five minutes for her to finish, perfectly tying the ribbon into a bow.

"There, now we're matching," She said smiling. She put her hands on my shoulders, making me tense for a moment. I smiled as I relaxed. (Y/n) removed her hands from my shoulders and walked over and plopped herself on my bed.

"Thanks," I said, getting up from the chair. I ran my hand over the semi-loose braid that went from the middle of my head to just past my shoulders.

"You're really good at braiding," I added. No blush displayed on her cheeks. Instead, she smirked.

"I know. I am the queen of braiding," She said the last part in a posh voice. Going along with the joke, I bowed down to my waist. Over the past year, our friendship had grown more comical, despite her slight judgments towards me.

"Of course, your majesty,"

For something that to others wouldn't be considered funny, we both laughed like five-year-olds, clutching our stomachs and crying due to how hard we were laughing. (Y/n) got up from the bed and started to walk towards the door.

"Come on, dinner should be ready by now,"

✿

Due to the sun still shining through the sky at seven o'clock, (Y/n) decided that all the Hamilton children should go on an afternoon walk around the park. (Y/n) insisted so that my mother get all the rest she needs with the new addition on the way. (Y/n) has visited almost every day since I returned for the summer, which was almost a month ago. She usually helps my mother out with the cooking and cleaning around the house, along with entertaining my siblings, specifically John and William, the youngest in our family.

It was like any walk with my siblings and (Y/n). (Y/n) would walk in front with my siblings, talking and playing around with them. I would usually be behind, keeping an eye on everyone and making sure everyone was safe. When passing by random girls walking past, a simple smile towards them would make them swoon, making me earn a glare from (Y/n) every time, which only made me laugh.

Instead of going to our usual park, we went to a smaller park that was closer to the house. There, we enjoyed ourselves like always: (Y/n) played with my siblings while I sat and watched. The sun went down faster than we thought, seeing that two hours had already passed. Everyone except (Y/n) and I were exhausted, and by the time we made it back to the house, they all went upstairs and slept.

I grabbed my coat thinking that I would be walking (Y/n) home. We stepped out of the house once again, but this time, (Y/n) went in a different direction.

"(Y/n) isn't your house this way?" I asked, pointing in the right direction. She walked ahead of me faster than usual.

"Yeah, but I want to show you something and tonight is the perfect night to do so," She said as she continued to stride down the street. She had a bounce in her step, which only confused me more. I ran and caught up with her.

"Wait," I stopped her. She groaned impatiently and turned towards me.

"What are you going to show me?" I asked her.

"You'll see!" Is all she said. She then turned back around and kept walking down the street.

"What about your brother?!"

"He's in Pennsylvania for work and won't be home till three weeks from now,"

We continued down the street, passing by familiar shops and parks.

She finally stopped in front of a huge open area just outside of town. At the sight of the destination, (Y/n) beamed and began to run onto the field. I stayed behind and watched as excitement filled her body. (Y/n) noticed that I wasn't following and motioned for me to go with her.

Once I caught up with her, she took off again and began to run over a small hill. I also began to run as (Y/n) disappeared.

(Y/n) stopped in front of a steep hill and waited for me.

"You want me to climb that?" I asked pointing towards the hill.

"Mmhm," she hummed. I looked at her like she was going crazy.

"Oh hell no. Are you insane?!" She only laughed, and began to run up the hill.

"Yup!" She yelled back. I sighed and chuckled to myself. So, I began to also run up the hill, quickly loosing my breath only a quarter of the way up, all while (Y/n) still ran, having much more endurance than me.

By the time I managed to trudge up the hill, I was panting like a dog. My lungs were desperate for air as I breathed heavily. However, (Y/n) was already laying down in the grass with her hands behind her head.

I bent down, putting my hands on my knees to try and catch my breath.

"Have you ever seen the stars before?" (Y/n) suddenly asked. I looked her and squinted my eyes. Why was everything so blurry all of the sudden?

"Of course I have," I said, saying each word between each heavy breath. I lazily made my way over to (Y/n) and laid down beside her with a big sigh, closing my eyes, ultimately attempting to sleep.

"No, like, have you really observed the stars and studied them?"

"Well, no, not really,"

"Then look,"

I opened my eyes towards (Y/n) who was instead pointing up at the sky, more specifically, the tiny dots of light that infiltrated the dark atmosphere. They glistened, just like (Y/n) eyes as they looked up at the stars in wonder.

"Wow,"

"I know right?"

"They're beautiful,"

"Yeah,"

"Do you know what else is beautiful?" I asked.

"What?" She asked. The stars still captured her attention.

"Me," I said smirking. I suddenly obtained her attention as she turned her head slowly towards me, her mouth hanging open. (a/n: i low key wanted to write this chapter just to put that in)

"Wow, Philip. I knew you were egotistical, but I didn't know it was that bad," she said. I put my hand on my chest and gasped dramatically, earning a laugh from (Y/n).

"I am not egotistical. How dare you call me such a word," I said in a mock tone. (Y/n) rolled her eyes and smiled.

"You literally just called yourself beautiful, Philip," She said. All I could do now was laugh, and that was all (Y/n) could do too. Once we stopped laughing, we looked at each other,  
staring into each other's eyes.

The stars were just bright enough to illuminate her (e/c) eyes and soft lips. I wanted to  
kiss her right there and then, and for a moment, I started to slowly lean in.

(Y/n) realized what I was doing and quickly turned her head up towards the stars, making me do the same. I had made it awkward all  
of the sudden, filling the air with silence.

"We should get going," I said getting up. (Y/n) yawned and nodded her head. I held my hand out for her and she took it. I helped her up as an idea popped into my head.

"Hey, I bet I can make it down the hill faster than you," I challenged. She raised an eyebrow at me, skeptical about the challenge. She broke out into a devilish smile and narrowed her eyes towards me.

"Oh you're on!" We lined up at the top of the hill and got into a starting position.

"Okay ready...."

"Go!" We both ran but I leaded. Around halfway down, I heard a faint gasp. Thinking nothing of it, I trudged down the hill at a fast pace, making sure not to trip and fall.

When I got to the bottom, I shouted triumphantly. I turned around and my eyes widened, mortified, at the sight of (Y/n) not running down the hill, but tumbling down the hill.

Once she came to the bottom, I immediately ran to her side.

"Oh my God, (Y/n), are you okay?" I asked frantically. She rubbed her head and groaned. I held out my arm but she waved me away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I just bumped my head," She said as she lifted herself up. She took one step and her ankle gave out and she fell down. I immediately caught her before she hit the ground again.

"I think you may have injured your ankle as well,"

"You think?" She snapped which made me shut my mouth. (Y/n) sighed and leaned on me for support.

"I'm sorry, Philip, it's just, I'm in pain, as you can see,"

"Here, could I.. maybe just.. carry you?" She hesitated for a second but then agreed.

"Fine,"

I swiftly picked her up, making her yelp from her ankle moving. We both grimaced.

"Sorry,"

"It's fine," (Y/n) said through gritted teeth. I could tell she was close to crying, but was trying to fight it.

Half of the way home I carried her, but got too tired. The rest of the way home, I helped her walk with the one foot that wasn't injured.

We finally made it home and I helped her onto the couch. I crept up the stairs and into my fathers study. I explained what had happened to which he freaked out over.

"You what?" He seethed.

"I was just trying to have fun, Pops!" I said defensively. Pops groaned and got up from his desk. I led him him down stairs to (Y/n) who was clenching her fists from the pain. Her ankle was now swollen, displaying red, blue, and purple hues and eyes were watery from the sting.

"Okay, Philip, stay here while I retrieve the doctor,"


	13. skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT FINALLY GETS BETTER WRITING WISE

✿

Your POV

✿

The pain I experienced from my ankle was like no other pain I had ever felt in my entire life.

As the doctor wrapped up my ankle in a piece of cloth, pain seared through my leg and all throughout my body. I whimpered in discomfort. Fortunately, I hadn't injured my ankle to the point of a break.

When I looked over at Philip, all I could see was guilt. Pure guilt. I gave a cold stare, which only made him look down at his feet.

The doctor said that I was to remain in bed and off my foot for two weeks luckily, so George wouldn't find out. Eliza insisted that I stay in their residence for the two weeks since Philip was the person who cost me my mobility for that period of time.

The first week in my bedridden state was not entertaining. For the most of the day, I lay in discomfort as my injury healed.

All throughout that week, I was visited by Hamilton kids, who frequently asked me to play with them. Which, earned them a small reprimand from Eliza, who told them not to disrupt me and instead, let rest me rest like I should. But the one person who visited me the most was Philip. Throughout the entire week, he would visit me, asking me for my forgiveness. It was quite funny the first few times.

That same week, I realized that I still had mail waiting for me at home that I had forgotten to open. So, I asked Philip to retrieve my mail as a result of my state.

"Sure," He said, shrugging his shoulders.

I handed him a slip of paper with my address on it and key to my house and told him not to look through my mail.

"What! I would never," he said dramatically. I laughed, rolling my eyes.

He left after saying his goodbyes. I finally found the chance to rest until that chance that soon cut off when William waddled over to me.

✿ 

Philips POV

✿

I strode down the sidewalk confidently. I didn't distract myself with the sites and people around me and carried on with my mission.

I looked at the address on the slip of paper and then looked at the house in front of me. (Y/n)'s estate was roughly the size of mine. It was well taken care of from the outside, but the inside would be an entirely different story. I flipped the key through my fingers, twiddling with it. I walked up the pathway that led to the porch. When I got to the door, I slipped the key into the keyhole, turning it until I heard a loud click. The door opened up smoothly, making little sound.

When I entered, I was a bit surprised to see a girl, most likely around my age, with ebony skin, cross-stitching. I froze, but without looking up, she spoke.

"It's 'bout time you came home," she said. I couldn't respond, and instead just looked at her.

"How was your time with Ph-" she said as she looked up in my direction, stopping mid-sentence when she saw that I wasn't (Y/n).

She had delicate features and a small frame. I couldn't help but notice how good she was at stitching. She sat up straighter, but ultimately stood up and lowered her head.

"Philip Hamilton, my apologies-" she began to say.

"Wait, how do you know my name?" I interrupted her.

The girl looked at me with her eyebrows raised, leaving me confused. "(Y/n) talks 'bout you lots, but with your last name, I'm sure everyone in this town knows who you are,"

That was true. With me being a Hamilton, there was always some sort of publicity about us. Wait. (Y/n) talks about me? 

"Do you need something?" The girl asked.

"Oh, yeah. Yesterday, (Y/n) sustained an injury and will reside in my estate until she is healed. I was asked by her directly to retrieve the mail that (Y/n) has received,"

"That's no good. What happened?" she questioned. I laughed nervously.

"I- uh, challenged her to a race down a steep hill and she tripped, causing her to injure her ankle. It's nothing serious though," I replied.

"Oh thank the Lord. Will she be better by the time George arrives home from his trip?"

"Yes, her injury should only take around two weeks to heal,"

She kept a hopeful face even though her eyes held concern.

"Oh, um, lemme get you the letters," She said. She reached over to a small table by the front door and opened a small drawer. The drawer was full of letters, all neatly stacked.

She pulled out all of the letters and then went into another room, leaving me alone with the letters beside me. I quickly glanced at the top letter, seeing the name of a man that was unfamiliar to me.

The girl came back with a piece of twine. She took the stack of letters and carefully wrapped then up, tying it off with a perfect bow. She then handed the letters to me.

"Thank you," I said. She smiled and nodded her head. I went out the door, holding (Y/n)s letters in my hand. It was tempting to look through it, but (Y/n) told me not to. I suppose a peek wouldn't hurt.

I untied the bow and put the string in my pocket. I looked at the envelope of each letter, seeing the name of a different man on each one. My mind flooded with questions. I was amazed by how many letters she had.

Wait. I shouldn't be doing this. 

I looked up from the stack of letters in my hand, not wanting to feel any more guilty than I already felt. I raced home, realizing I had taken way longer than I should have.

Before I entered the door, I made sure to retie the letters. It didn't exactly look like the way the girl did it, but it would do.

I opened the door, seeing (Y/n) asleep on the couch. I didn't want to wake her, so I put them on the table beside her.

✿

"Philip!" 

My head instantly popped up at the sound of my name. I waited, making sure I wasn't hearing things.

"Philip!" I heard my name being yelled again, and it sounded angry.

I made my way towards the sound and found (Y/n) fuming.

"Can you come over here please?" She asked through gritted teeth. I hesitantly made my way over to her, taking caution with every step. When I got to her, she stared at me for a few seconds, making me let down my guard. All of the sudden, (Y/n) grabbed the stack of letters and began to hit my torso with them.

"I thought I told you not to look through my mail!" She yelled while hitting me. I yelped, scared by her sudden action.

"I did not!" I said back, almost laughing. She stopped hitting me and huffed, narrowing her eyes at me. 

"I can see through your lies," She scowled.

"How do you know I'm lying?" I crossed my arms.

"The bow," she said. I put my hands up in surrender and sighed. "Fine. You caught me,"

"Ha! I knew it," She cheered in triumph. I laughed at her satisfaction. I turned around to go back to my room when I remembered the girl that was at her house.

"Wait, (Y/n)," I turned back around. (Y/n) lifted her head, now looking at me again.

"Yes?"

"I didn't know you supported slavery,"

(Y/n) frowned at the words, then shook her head. "I don't. I actually despise it,"

My brows furrowed in confusion.

"Then why do you have a slave living in your house?"

(Y/n) processed the words and then smiled.

"Oh, Ruth? She is not a slave anymore. When my mother died, my brother inherited the slaves living in our house, which was three at the time. Over the years since her death, I grew to hate slavery, seeing how painful their life was, working all the time. I convinced my brother to free them. One of them died of old age shortly after, and another left out estate to live out on their own. All that was left was Ruth, and instead of leaving, she decided to stay and help around the house. Ruth is like a sister to me, and I don't treat her as if she were a slave," she said. (Y/n) then went back to her letters, opening each one and reading them, tossing them aside like they meant nothing to her.

"Who are the letters from?" I asked. She looked back up at me again and sighed.

"Well, I guess since you've already looked my mail, you have questions."

"A lot, actually."

(Y/n) chuckled, then sighed again.

"They are all suitors."

My eyebrows raised.

"Really?"

"Indeed. My brother would like for me to marry a man of high hopes and good fortune. Unfortunately, that means I can not marry a man for love,"

My brows furrowed again. Envy grew inside me at the fact that others were chasing after (Y/n) hand.

"But you don't love them. Why should you marry someone if you don't love them? No one deserves you," I continued to ramble on, my jealousy continuing to grow within me.

(Y/n) noticed my rambles and looked at my slyly, smirking when she cut me off.

"You're not jealous, are you?" She continued to smile.

"I- uh, um, no...?" I stammered. She laughed, continuing to read the letters, leaving me somewhat befuddled. 

I turned around and left the room, heading up the stairs and into my room where I sat back down and began to read silently again, even though I would actually think about (Y/n) the entire time.


	14. storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> half of the second part of the chapter got deleted somehow so this is only half of the total chapter

✿

Philips POV

✿

The thunder cracked like a bullet being fired from a pistol. The wind swirled and circled around, almost as if they were chasing each other. Rain poured down from the sky, flooding the streets and seeping through the ceilings of old houses such as ours. I could hear the water drip from the ceiling and splash into the cup that I placed underneath the leak. It was dark outside, the rain extinguishing the flames that lit from each oil lamp in the street. The clouds were cast in front of the sun, created a gloomy and somber mood within the town. Each boom of thunder and each strike of lighting got louder as the minutes went on.

I lay in my bed, wrapped in the blankets around me. Never in my life have I experienced a storm such as this one.

It terrified me. (a/n: my bb sunflower)

I couldn't sleep. Couldn't think. All I could see and hear were the voices in the wind, the sky, where no stars could be seen, and the leaves rustling in the harsh breeze. I tossed and turned trying everything to muffle the sounds. Nothing would suffice. It seemed bizarre for a storm to arrive in the middle of June, but then again, the weather was always wavering.

As the minutes kept going by, the storm got stronger. I heard a tree snap from its roots, crashing down into Angie's beloved garden. I began to stress, and when I stress, I eat.

Not even bothering to put on my slippers, I clambered out of bed, desperate to get away from the dangers that surrounded me. I picked up the candle holder and lifted it out in front of me, guiding my way through the dark house. The floor boards creaked, making it even harder to feel at peace. I crept down the stairs, my hand clutching onto the banister, my feet moving at a snail's pace. I kept my eyes on my feet, ensuring that I wouldn't trip and go tumbling down the stairs.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I let out a breath that I was not aware I had been holding in. I looked around me, making sure there was nothing around that could suddenly startle me. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, I proceeded to the front room.

When I entered the front room, I was startled when I saw (Y/n), not sleeping, but awake and resting her head on the window sill, looking out onto the street. I gasped, to which (Y/n) noticed. She turned her head around, and a small smile danced across her face.

"Philip? What are you doing up at such an ungodly hour?" I chuckled, seeing her question quite hypocritical.

"I was going to ask you the same," I said, still standing in the place where I first saw her. She was sitting on the couch, curled up into a ball with her feet against her chest. She looked calm, peaceful unlike me, a terrified, stressing mess.

"I actually very much enjoy storms," She said quietly, making sure not to speak loudly over the faint sounds of the rain and wind outside. The candle placed next to her was blown out.

"How can you see without some sort of lighting in the room?"

"I have the flashes of lightning that illuminate the room for a split second, and the bright moon is shining its light through the clouds, making the sky a grey hue. I am perfectly fine without a candle."

I pursed my lips and nodded in understanding.

"So, what are your reasons?" She asked, still looking out the window. I didn't want my weakness to show, mostly because I thought she would tease me for it, seeing how she wasn't afraid.

"I-um," I stammered. She turned to face me.

"You're scared, aren't you?" She asked softly. Her eyes reciprocated her voice, no judgment to me found. (Y/n) smiled, and pat her hand on the empty space on the couch, motioning for me to sit.

I slowly walked over and sat down, setting the candle holder on the window sill. Once I was settled in, my body still wrapped in blankets, I looked outside while (Y/n) stared at me, and then at the candle that was still aflame. Suddenly, she blew out the candle, making it darker than it was before.

I panicked for a moment while my eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. Once they adjusted, I could see (Y/n)'s face, soft and innocent. We both sat there in comfortable silence, observing the madness of the world outside our home. I felt more serene than I was before, mostly due to the presence of another person.


	15. spinning - pt. one

When you stand up too fast, your head starts to spin. It seems as though the earth has picked up speed, turning and spinning beneath your feet. The pounding in your head gets louder and louder by the second, making you close your eyes. It continues, and your brain begins to be swallowed up by blackness. You try to reach out for support, feeling as if you're going to faint. As you reach out.... it stops.

You open your eyes and see that the world is no longer moving at the pace it seemed to be at just seconds ago. The pounding in your head goes suddenly stops, seeming as if it never occurred. You find your balance, and everything goes back to normal.

✿

The flowers blew from side to side as the warm summer breeze came. July was the hottest month in New York, the heat rising so much that a drop of sweat would trail down my brow the minute I stepped outside. Luckily today, there was only a summer wind that swept through.

I sat on the old wooden bench my mother would frequently sit on. As a child I would see her, sitting on the bench, eyes closed and chin up, her hands resting gently in her lap. I never interrupted her, fearful that it was a moment that I couldn't interrupt. I never knew what she was thinking when she sat there contently. She seemed at peace every time, calm and easy.

It was one time when I asked her about it as she tucked me into bed. She said to me, "As the years progress, you will find the reason."

But now, as I sat here in the same spot and in the same way many years later, I still didn't understand what was going through her head. I heard the sounds all around me, the hooves of the horses trotting down the cobblestone road, the birds that chirped around me, the bees that buzzed in nearby flowers.

I opened my eyes, looking around as they adjusted to the scene around me. I expected something to be different about the world when I opened my eyes. But everything was the same, from the flowers that still swayed back and forth, to the bees that still buzzed in them.

"Y/n!" I heard from behind me, a voice I could recognize anywhere. I turned my head towards the sound, seeing Theodosia coming out the back door of the house. I immediately broke into a smile, happy to see the person I hadn't seen in so long.

We both squealed like young girls, running into each others arms. The hug seemed to last forever, though it only lasted a few seconds.

"How do you do?" I asked, cheerful to see her face again.

"I am well. And you?" She asked, smiling brightly.

"I am fine, thank you."

"Your brother seems very into his work, no?" Theo asked, an eyebrow raised and a devilish smile appearing. I rolled my eyes at the mention of George.

"As always, Theo."

"So what have you done with your time? Have you met anyone you favor yet?" She asked, the smirk still displayed on her face. I blushed, immediately thinking about Philip.

"Ah!" She cheered, clapping her hands together once.

"There is someone! I knew it!" My blushed dropped with my smile, afraid that she had seen me enter the Hamiltons estate one day.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my brows slightly furrowing. Theo walked over the bench and sat down, me following suit.

"I've seen you out more during my walks alone through the town square, and you look more lively than I've ever seen you since your mother." I thought about it, realizing how every time I walked in the direction of the Hamilton household, a smile was always on my face, a bounce in my step, thinking of if I would see Philip.

"So, who is the one you fancy?" She asked, the smirk back on her lips. I hesitated, thinking of how she would react.

"Oh, c'mon, is it a suitor?"

"Oh Theo you know I would never love a man I was forced to be wed."

"Fair point. Then who is it?" Theo pulled on my arm like the answer would come out of it, the little unknown ball of energy inside her rising. I sighed, giving in. I whispered it in her ear, making sure George couldn't hear from his study.

"Philip Hamilton."

I pulled back to see her reaction. Her face immediately dropped as she processed the information handed to her. It worried me, thinking how she might inform her dad, who would most certainly inform George.

"Philip?! Philip Hamilton?!" Her voice rose at the end, making me reach up and cover her mouth, looking back to see if the window to his study was closed. Thankfully, it was.

"Shhh!" I shushed her. "No one can know! If someone else sees us together, specifically the press, then George could find out, and that would not end well. That means you can't tell anyone, especially your father." I uncovered her mouth slowly, hoping she wouldn't yell again.

"Fine," she whined. "But why him?" She scowled, making a face of disgust, which made me laugh.

"I don't know Theo. I don't fancy him all that much, just a bit," I said, the blush making it's way back up to my cheeks.

"But you do know he's just trying to get under your dress, right?"

"I do know that. It's what I knew he was trying to do when I first met him. But he's actual different when not in the view of the public," I reasoned. Theo crossed her arms, still unsure about him.

"You've met him, right Theo? So you get my reasoning."

"Yes but when I met him he acted like a brat, always thinking he was smarter than me. The last time I was in the same room as him was when we were fourteen. Even then he was still a brat, and he will always be a brat!" She fired back, mumbling at points.

"Then he's changed! Trust me! You know me Theo, if he acted like that with me I wouldn't even be in contact with him."

"He's just got you under his spell like all the other oblivious girls in this town," She mumbled. I laughed at the way her nose crinkled when she talked about him, like he was a putrid smell that needed to go away.

"Just give him a chance, Theo, you don't have to talk to him-" I began.

"Oh I won't be talking to him!" Theo interrupted, holding her head up high. I pressed on.

"But at least be supportive. Please?" I smiled at her, she looked at me and away again, trying not to give in. Finally, she broke, and sighed, uncrossing her arms and smiling.

"Very well. If it makes you happy," I smiled widely, wrapping her into a hug.

"But! If he ever hurts you, I swear to the Lord that he will be the one hurting more after I'm done with him," I laughed, wondering how I got such an over protective friend like Theodosia.

Theodosias collected and calm façade is not easily broken, but once you crack it, it shatters into a millions pieces for you, rebuilding whenever she was out in public, but falling down when you were alone with her.

We pulled away when I realized something. "Wait!" I yelled, catching her attention quickly.

"I thought you weren't aloud to leave your house alone?" I asked slyly, knowing that Mr. Burr had set a strict policy on not going out alone unless she was accompanied be me or another that he knew. Her face sunk and she grew nervous, sweat starting to appear.

"I didn't say anything about going out alone, just that I saw you more in the town square," She tried to assure me. I shook my head.

"No, you said that you've seen me out more while on your walks alone through the town square." Theo started to laugh nervously.

"Huh, must have.... added... in.. a.. word..." I laughed, seeing her trying to cover up her actions. 

"Hey, I won't tell about you sneaking out if you don't tell about Philip and I?"

"Deal!" She immediately said, making me laugh again.

We talked for hours outside in the backyard, covering many random topics and ideas, catching up on year we missed of each other. The warm air didn't seem to bother us as we talked, not even mentioning that it was hot and going inside.

As the sun started to set, Ruth's mother, who had been visiting from Pennsylvania, called both of us inside to eat. That's when Theo started to get ready to depart.

"I must take my leave, Y/n, it was very nice to see you again," She said as she put her lace gloves back on.

"You aren't staying for dinner?"

"I mustn't, I would hate to intrude-"

"Theo you're basically family to us! You wouldn't be intruding in the slightest." She hesitated, stepping closer to me.

"But what about George? If I'm being honest he still kinda scares me," She said in a quiet voice, making me laugh.

"Mr. Eacker isn't comin' down to eat, Theodosia. He still got lots of work to do." Ruth stepped in, hearing all of our conversation. Theodosia and I both smiled at each other. Theodosia started to pull off her gloves, setting them down on the table.

"Yes!" I cheered, making her laugh.

We both sat at the table talking all the while Ruth's mother, Sarah, cooked the food and Ruth served.

Once Ruth sat down, we dove into our food. It was about halfway through when we seemed to forget our manners. We slouched, putting our elbows on the table and behaving as if we were drunk.

"Sarah, come at look at this!" I called from the dining room. Sarah walked in, having just cleaned up the kitchen.

"What is it, hun?" She called back.

"Watch!" I said. I soon got to work, placing a fork horizontally on the table. On the arch of the fork, I placed a spoon, balancing it out. Once it was balanced, I put a small piece of potato in the bowl of the spoon, making that side of the spoon fall back onto the table.

I looked back at Sarah, making sure I still had her attention. She looked at me with an eyebrow raised, intrigued. I looked at Theo to see if she was ready. She nodded her head with determination.

I looked back to the spoon and in one swift motion, slammed the handle into the table, catapulting it into the sky. Everyones eyes were on the potato as it flew into the air, landing in Theo's mouth successfully.

I raised my arms up and cheered. Sarah shook her head, although I could still see a smile seep through.

"Did y'all forget your manners? I suggest you quit it before George hears this ruckus goin' on and comes down stairs to see y'all acting like five year olds," She said, trying to keep a straight face but failing.

Sarah visits every year during the summer. She became a second mother to me when mother died. Sarah is very acquainted with all of us, treating us as her own.

We all started to clean up after dinner, even though Sarah suggested that she could do it herself.

After we cleaned everything up, it had gotten pretty late. I insisted that Theo stay the night, and she gave in, but still feared of her fathers reaction the next day.

She stayed up the whole night worrying about it, keeping me up till eleven o'clock. I told her to stop worrying and to finally go to seep, which she did. I told her that George would accompany her in the morning, even though it would be an awkward walk home.

✿


	16. spinning - pt. two

I watched the rare summer rain fall from my bedroom window. The rain always soothed me, relaxing my senses. It made me tired,  
sometimes, hearing the sound of the droplets clash against the window pane. I crossed my arms on the window sill, resting my head on top of them. My eyes began to flutter close when a small knock caught my attention.

I watched as Ruth opened the door. "Mr. George is asking to meet you in his study," she said, nodding her head once and leaving quickly. My eyebrows drew together as I questioned what he wanted to talk to me about. Never before had I stepped foot in the study George now occupied. I used to  
visit my father frequently as a child in his study, lifting his spirits with my humorous personality.

As I entered the room, I took in the faint whiskey smell that infiltrated the room. Only a small portion of the wall was covered with books, nothing compared to library at the Hamiltons. Papers littered his desk, all stained with splotches of ink. I felt the chill in the room raise my skin into tiny bumps, the hair on my arms standing straight.

I placed myself on the firm couch cushions, confused as to why George called for me. I felt the small tension in the room as George came into the room, standing in front of me with his arms behind his back.

"What is going on, George?" I asked, the confusion evident in my voice. He drew in a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

"We're moving to Paris," he stated.

"What?!" I reacted quickly, springing up from my seat and standing.

Now, when you stand up too fast, your head starts to spin. It seems as though the earth has picked up speed, turning and spinning beneath your feet. The pounding in your head gets louder and louder by the second, making you close your eyes. It continues, and your brain begins to be swallowed up by blackness. You try to reach out for support, feeling as if you're going to faint. As you reach out.... it stops.

You open your eyes and see that the world is no longer moving at the pace it seemed to be at just seconds ago. The pounding in your head goes suddenly stops, seeming as if it never occurred. You find your balance, and everything goes back to normal.

"When are we to depart?" I asked. Surely George would be sensible enough to inform me some time before we were scheduled to leave. This would give me a chance to pack everything I needed without rushing and say goodbye to friends, especially the Hamiltons.

"The ship is to leave tomorrow at dawn," he confirmed, and I immediately began to stress.

How was I going to tell Philip in time when I still needed to pack everything?

"We are not selling the estate, if that's what your worried about." George walked over the his bookshelf, taking them off the shelf and gently tossed them on the desk behind him. The dust flew up into the air as the books landed, and I realized that he hadn't touched them in years.

"So we'll be back, correct? When will we return?" I watched as he carefully sorted through the books. He sighed again, placing a hand on the table, shifting his weight onto it.

"I am uncertain, but we'll reside there for at least a year, maybe even two." I groaned in response, not knowing whether to tell Theodosia or Philip first, or weather I should tell my friends first or pack before hand.

"I'll start packing, then," I sighed, feeling a sense of defeat.

The rest of the day went past quickly cand I soon found myself closing my trunk, now full with all of my belongings. It was then when I remembered that I still needed to tell the Hamiltons and Theodosia.

I quickly put on cloak, draping it over my shoulders and securing the clasp in the front. Telling George of my short departure, I put the hood over my head and walked out the door and into the pouring rain.

As I walked through the street, I kept my head down as I lifted the layers of my dress so they could not get wet. I saw my shoes splash in the small puddles that gathered on the sidewalk, creating ripples in the small pool of water. It was already night out, so I picked up speed as I made my way to Theodosia.

I finally reached Theodosias house and went to the backyard. The huge tree that had stood since we were kids had a thick branch that led a way to Theodosias window, and I used to sneak out when I was thirteen just to see her at night.

I hadn't climbed the tree since I was fifteen, so I struggled a bit when I first got myself off the ground. The hood of my cloak fell back as I looked up, exposing my head to the rain. I climbed the tree, watching my step as I made sure not to slip on wet branches.

I finally made it to her window and sat down on the branch, steadying myself.

Through the sheer curtains, I saw the glow of the candle by her bedside. I knocked on the glass window pane seven times–a number that we both agreed would be a signal–to announce my presence and catch her attention.

When she opened the window, her eyes widened at my current state. I smiled brightly, managing to balance myself on the thick branch.

"What are you doing here?" She seethed, keeping her voice quiet so that she wouldn't wake her father. She looked me up and down, noticing that my head and the rest of my cloak was drenched with rain water.

"I had to say goodbye," I said as I entered the house through her window. Her eyebrows drew together as she closed the window. I sighed, frowning.

"I'm moving to Paris," I stated. Theodosias mouth opened slightly in shock, her eyes filling with sadness.

"What?" She whispered.

"It's only for a year or so, so I'll be back." The tears started to form in my eyes, and I saw the same with Theo. It was silent for a second, and I looked down and the ground.

Theo closed the space between us, embracing me. I hugged back tightly, knowing that this would be my last hug with her for a while. The embrace lasted a few seconds. Theo pulled away, gasping.

"Oh! Did you tell Philip yet?" My face dropped at the mention of his name, giving Theo her answer. It was already so late out that I wouldn't be able to tell him verbally. Instead I rushed over to the small desk in her room and quickly got a piece of parchment and dipped the quill in the ink.

I scribbled down a short letter that would inform Philip. My plan was to run to his house and drop off the letter, assuring that it would get to Philip.

Once I was done, I looked at Theo once last time, and she smiled at me softly.

"Now go, before it gets too late," She shooed me out. The rain had died down a bit, but it was still present. 

As I jumped from the lowest branch to the ground, I clutched the letter in my hand, making sure that the drops of water didn't ruin the ink. I put the hood back up and ran off towards Philips house, which was on the other side of town. 

I luckily didn't slip as I ran down the sidewalk, not bothering to lift up my skirt. Rain dropped down the loose strands of my hair and the cloth of my dress was quickly dirtied.

My chest heaved up and down as I became breathless, nearing the Hamiltons. I finally reached the mahogany door and took a deep breath, revealing the letter from my cloak. Tears pooled in my eyes as I thought about how upset Philip would be, and how much I would miss him and Angie. Setting the letter on the door step, I quickly knocked on the door three times, and then took off.

I hid behind a bush to make sure that someone would answer the door and see the letter. At last Mr. Hamilton opened the door, looking around until he finally peered down, seeing the letter waiting patiently.

He bent down and picked up the letter, flipping it over. I saw the flash of Philips name that I had written on the front of the paper. I smiled, thanking the heavens when he went back inside. 

I ran off towards my house, the tears flowing from my eyes. I prayed that Philip would understand even though I had written such a short letter, and I prayed that the short announcement wouldn't ruin our friendship.

✿

"Philip," I heard my father whisper, opening the door of my room. My eyes fluttered open and I groaned in response. It was still early in the morning, the sun just barely starting to rise.

"A letter came for you very late at night. No one delivered it. It was only placed on the doorstep. It says it's very urgent," He handed a letter to me as I sat up. I rubbed my groggy eyes as I took the letter, looking at the handwriting of person who wrote my name. 

I could easily recognize the hand that matched the writing, for I had seen it many times before. It was (Y/n) who had written it. On the back of the letter she had written,"Please open as soon as possible."

I broke the small seal quickly, my father still in the room watching me. The letter was short, the shortest letter that she had ever written to me. My eyes looked over to the first few words of the letter.

Dear Philip,

I am so sorry for how the information is reaching you, but I don't have much time. I am leaving, moving, actually, to France. You must understand that it was my brothers decision and I had no say. I was only informed today of my departure so please, don't be upset at the short notice. My boat leaves tomorrow morning at sunrise, and I hope that you will read this letter in time to see me before I depart.

I will only be gone for at least a year, two at the most, but my brother is still uncertain of when we will return to America. I will miss you and Angie dearly, and I hope you will write to me frequently.

Deepest regards,

(Y/n)

My brows furrowed as I stood up.

"She's gone," I whispered. My fathers eyes looked at me in confusion.

"Who?" My father asked, my mouth was open in shock. My eyes re-read the letter, hoping that the words would magically change or disappear altogether. I was upset at the fact that she didn't tell me personally.

"(Y/n). She...she left for France," I said, handing him the letter. I sat back down on my bed, questions flowing through my brain.

"She hasn't left yet," He looked up from the letter and smiled at me. 

"What do you mean?" My brows furrowed. He can over to me and showed me the letter, pointing out the sentence that said she was leaving at dawn.

"The sun is just starting to rise. If you go now, you could see her in time." Not even a second past before I raced around to get my shoes, putting them on faster than I ever had before.

I put on my coat and bolted out the door, racing time itself.

Once I got to the ports, I searched for her. I went down the line of boat and ships, looking for (Y/n). I finally saw her, behind the railing, looking out. I could see the tears flow down her cheeks. 

"(Y/n)!" I yelled out, running up to the edge of the dock. Her head whipped around to face me, her mouth agape and her eyes widening. She smiled widely, the tears falling harder. The boat kept moving, and soon, it was so far away that we could only see each other. The words spoken by either of our mouths would not have been heard by the other.

The details of her face disappeared, and I could only see her figure and she faded off in the distance.


	17. silhouettes

I pat my hands on my back and leaned back, stretching. My back had begun to sore from all the unpacking. The three and a half month journey from America to France was quite uncomfortable: full of seasickness, damp living quarters, and a lack of food. We left for Paris in the middle of August, and arrived in late November.

I had just finished decorating my new room, that was in our new house, which was in a new city. I missed the company of my friends, especially Theodosia. Her personality could change my mood in a heart beat.

I looked around my room, picking out the differences of the room. The windows were different; the window was cut in half. Instead of opening just one, I now had to open two. The border that lined the ceiling of the room was engraved with ornate and flowery designs compared the simple ones back home. The room itself was bigger, almost echoing my voice when I spoke or sang. Even with my bed, my huge bookshelf, and my desk, there was enough space to dance.

I spun in a slow circle, still staring at the room around me, and took in my surroundings. I tried to make myself familiar with the new environment, everything overwhelming me. I walked to the window and looked out at the old streets of Paris. I saw women walking with parasols in hand, and men, the reins in their hands while horses pulled the carts. The fashion was different here, the dresses and suits being more extravagant and flamboyant compared to the unembellished dresses in America.

The bells rung from the Notre Dame Cathedral that was just a couple blocks away from the estate, announcing that it was now noon. Seeing that I had set everything in place in my new living quarters, I decided to got outside and explore the world in which I was living in. It was easy to get out of the house by my self, although George was skeptical about me being alone. I assured him that I would be fine and I needed help, I knew how to ask.

I was further educated in the native tongue of France than George. He had learned some when he was younger, but stopped his studies in the language to focus on other studies he deemed more important.

I grabbed a basket and held it with the inside of my elbow, and draped my favorite cloak around my shoulders. It was quite breezy today in late November. As soon as I stepped out through the door, I was greeted with the wind blowing in my face. I looked the direction of the women walking and saw a large crowd of people a little ways down the street.

As I explored the streets of Paris, I noticed that it was truly a beautiful sight. I could smell the bakers shop from the end of the street, the sent of freshly baked bread and rolls filling my nose. I could hear the laughter come from both children and adults because of the humorous puppet show. I could see sellers in the market, bargaining with buyers.

The market caught my attention first, seeing how boisterous the crowd was. It was difficult to promenade through the narrow streets, carts, wagons, carriages, and animals filling up most of the street. I managed to get through, stopping when I saw just how crazy the market was. Produce filled one half of the market, while on the other side were handmade items. I went to the handmade part of the market.

I could see brightly colored cloth, ornate carpets, delicate plates and glasses, and so much more. The sparkle of the jewels shining in the sunlight caught my attention. Some were attached to sliver chains, creating the perfect necklace to wear at anytime, and some were made for ear piercings.

A small white gem, roughly the size of a pebble, obtained my eyes the most. I had never seen anything like it before; it shifted through different colors depending on the angle of the stone. It consisted of tints or blues, greens, pinks, oranges, and even some yellows, all coming together to create a magnificent jewel that truly captivated me. It was attached to a simple silver chain. The merchant noticed my stare on the gem and came over to me, the table separating us.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The lady spoke, her voice deep and raspy. I took a quick look up at the woman, who was smaller than I, her back hunched over and her skin wrinkled. I smiled at her, and received a smile back. I held the pendant delicately in my hand, scanning it over and over again.

"Truly," I responded, my eyes filled with wonder. Silence filled the space between us once again as the women let me admire the stone. I started to wonder how much it cost, wanting it so badly.

"How much does it cost?" I asked, making eye contact with the merchant.

"Twenty écus." I frowned in slight disappointment i reached in the pockets of my skirt to see if I had enough. I took my coin pouch out and counted the available coins I had. I counted ten, which wouldn't be enough to make the purchase. I sighed in defeat, setting the necklace back down on the table.

"I don't have enough, but it's a beautiful piece. Any lady would be so lucky to wear it." I smiled slightly, thanking her and turning around to look at the other stuff around.

As I turned around, I immediately locked eyes with a guy, who looked to be as young as myself, smiling softly at me. He had been starting at my while I was looking at the jewelry. I caught a quick glimpse of him before he broke the eye contact, and suddenly turned around and walked away, embarrassed. I watched as he walked in opposite direction before shrugging it off.

I continued through the market, looking around at all of things I had never seen before. I purchased a handwoven tapestry, that pictured beautiful flowers. I rolled it up and put it in my basket, weighing it down some. The people of France were quite welcoming with newcomers such as myself. I received compliments from women on the streets, mentioning how uniquely beautiful my dress was, and that they hadn't seen anything so simple yet so beautiful at the same time before.

I walked around the market for an hour more, spending my money wisely. I truly enjoyed my time in the town, giving the life of Paris a chance. The fresh produce looked delicious and the breads and rolls were perfectly baked.

I visited the Notre Dame Cathedral, reveling in the ornate designs and engravings in the domes of the ceilings. I studied the detailed paintings of gospels figures and cherubs on the walls, and stared at the statues of Mary and Jesus. I lit a candle underneath the statue and proceeded to sit in the pews. The old wood squeaked when I sat, echoing through the cathedral.

I looked around the church and saw the stained glass windows. The sun shone through them, the light changing to the color blue. Other people were seated throughout the cathedral, praying.

After ten more minutes, I decided to go home, seeing that night was arriving. I stood up quietly, not wanting to make a disturbance. I exited the cathedral and saw how the crowd in the streets had died down, the small market shops starting to close.

It was when I passed the fountain in the center of the town square that I caught sight of the man I had seen earlier, picking up firewood. He turned his head and made eye contact with me. He smiled again, but it was a genuine smile, not a smirk like the ones I had gotten from other guys. I smiled back at him, to which he beamed.

He started to walk towards me, fishing through the rest of the crowd. When he reached me, he stood a respectable distance from me.

"Hello Miss," He said. I offered my hand, and he took it, gently kissing my knuckles.

"You know, where I'm from it's quite rude to stare," I said jokingly, smiling. He laughed nervously, letting go of my hand.

"Oh, yeah, sorry about earlier. I was just captured by your extraordinarily beauty," he smirked slightly. An eyebrow rose at his straightforward compliments, and I looked him up and down, studying his features more. He had short, black, loosely curled hair and skin the shade of light honey. His eyes were the color of tea, an amber color. He was taller than Philip by a couple inches and had a sturdier frame. 

"I have a brilliant mind, too," I said. It was his turn to quirk and eyebrow, and his smile grew.

"Is that right?" He asked, almost incredulously.

"Are you doubting my level of intelligence just because I'm a lady?" I cocked my head to the side. His face filled with regret and he shook his head.

"Not at all. I've simply never met a women who boasted her intelligence as blatantly as you did," he stated. I noticed that it was suddenly dark and that I had to hurry home.

"Why, thank you," I nodded. "Oh, I must get going, but I hope to see you again soon," I said, putting the basket under my cloak and putting the hood on my head.

"As with you." He nodded.

I turned around and walked in the direction of the house, his face still in my brain. I turned around and looked back and saw the man putting the logs of firewood in the satchel attached to the saddle and mounted the horse. When he rode off in the opposite direction, I realized that I forgot to ask the name of my newfound acquaintance. But deep down I knew I would see him again.

✿

I put on a dress that I had brought with me from America, seeing that it was my nicest one, and prepared to go to a ballet. George thought it would be nice to get out of the house and enjoy the sites more, and suggested that we see a ballet performance.

The streets were bumpier than the roads in America, making for an uncomfortable ride.

When we got there, I was amazed at how beautiful the theatre was. It was big enough to hold thousands of people, and it was decorated perfectly. The ceilings were high and were decorated with paintings of cherubs. The seats and carpet were a scarlet color, with gold as an accent.

When we sat down, it was packed. People were still filling in the seats as we got to ours. I sat on the right side of the stage and looked around at all the people and all of the things around me. I was amazed at how beautiful this place was. I looked at the balconies across from us and observed all of the women and men laughing.

I reached the end of the balcony and saw the same man from yesterday, waiting for the play to start. I looked away for a second, but when I looked back, we made eye contact at the same time. We immediately smiled, recognizing each other's faces. He nodded at me, and I nodded back, acknowledging his presence.

Then, the lights dimmed, and the theatre filled with silence. The orchestra started to play, and I pulled my attention away from him and to the stage.

What I saw truly amazed me. As it started, only the silhouettes of the dancers could be seen, twirling one by one, in sync with the other. They jumped into the view of the audience, and gracefully danced across the stage. The crowd gasped at the leaps the dancers made and the complicated steps that two dancers did together. I sat there in silence and enjoyed the movements of the story being told in front of me. The man and I occasionally glanced at each other, taking a second to admire each other's features.

Before I knew it, the intermission came. We both started at each other while the lights illuminated the room once again. We both stood up along with others around us, remaining eye contact.

We rushed through the crowd, trying to meet up someplace in the middle. We walked out of the door that opened to the actual stage and saw each other. We walked towards each other and stopped, creating a space between us. I looked up and studied him closely again, noticing how his eyes held joy behind them.

"I never got your name yesterday," He said, a smile displayed by his full lips.

"And I never got yours," I responded before continuing. "My name is (Y/n) Eacker." I curtsied.

"That's quite a beautiful name, (Y/n)." I blushed at his words again.

"My name is-"

"Georges! Why on earth did you- oh," A older woman came barging through door, yelling. She noticed me mid-sentence, changing her tone completely. We both snapped our heads towards the woman, who I presumed to be his mother. The woman smiled as she stepped towards me.

"Mother, this is (Y/n), a friend of mine," Georges introduced me.

"It's lovely to meet you, ma'am." I bowed, smiling. She smiled back and looked me up and down. His mother was a beautiful woman. She had the same skin as Georges, with straight dark brown hair and light brown eyes.

"Just a friend?" She smiled devilishly. I laughed lightly.

"I just met her yesterday, Mother," he groaned. His mother and I both laughed.

"Does she know who our family is?" Georges' mother turned her head and asked. My brows drew together. Was I supposed to know who they are? Were they important or famous people? Georges shrugged and looked at me. "Do you, (Y/n)?"

I shook my head. "No, I-I don't think-"

"My dear, the ballet is about to start." A man, who I immediately recognized, exited through the doors. I gasped, seeing one of the men I've heard so much about stand in front of me. Georges' mother noticed and quirked an eyebrow.

"Ah, so she does know who we are." She smiled. My eyes widened as the man smiled, noticing my acknowledgement of his famous presence.

"The Marquis de Lafayette! Your fame precedes you in America, sir," I said, curtsying. He bowed, his bright smile showing.

"You're from America?" He questioned. I nodded excitedly.

"I just moved here a couple days ago, actually," I confirmed.

"How is the General Washington?"

"He is doing quite well, last I heard." The Marquis nodded in understanding.

"If only I could hear from Alexander more often," he sighed, chuckling at the end. The mention of the fist name grasped my attention.

"Alexander Hamilton?"

"Yes. Last I heard from him was in January."

"That wasn't that long ago considering that he lives in another country," The woman spoke up.

"I guess your right," he sighed again.

"I'm actually, very close friends with the Hamiltons," I spoke. Lafayette's smile grew.

"You are? That's amazing!"

"Mr. Mulligan is also doing well, sir." Lafayette gasped quietly, "How did you kn-"

"As I said, you're very famous in America, and so are your friends." I smiled.

"Oh, the intermission is ending," Georges said.

"It was very nice to meet you both," I said, bowing my head.

"As with you," Georges' mother said, smiling sweetly at me.

We parted ways and went back to our seats. George looked st me questionably as I sat down.

"I was feeling a bit uneasy and needed to get some fresh air," I said. He nodded, and put his attention towards the stage again.

I looked back up on the balcony and made eye contact with Georges. His amber eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked into mine.

In that moment, I wasn't thinking about anything else. Only him.


	18. sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehe

"So, which gentleman were you making conversation with?" George suddenly asked, a smug look on his face.

"I beg your pardon?" I sputtered, taken back by his very straightforward question. He noticed how nervous I had gotten and chuckled.

"You know what I'm talking about. You don't think I noticed you come back with your face as red as an apple?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling. My face flustered as I thought about Georges. I didn't even notice that I was blushing when I sat back down.

"Ah, so there is someone? I am very interested in knowing who it was that made you blush." I fiddled with the jewel that hung from my ear and looked out the window of the carriage, seeing all the stars that graced the sky.

I sighed. "His name is Georges." George broke into a small grin as I began to explain.

"Georges..." George began, waiting for his surname. I rolled my eyes, already knowing his reaction.

"Georges Washington de Lafayette." George's eyes widened and he practically choked on his own breath.

"Lafayette?!" He yelled in shock. I rolled my eyes again. Besides from the Marquis being famous for the wars he fought while in America and France, he was also known for being one of the richest men in America and France.

"Did he seem to favor you as well," he asked with high hopes. He was almost like a child, almost bouncing up and down in his seat. I knew he would be this joyful about my kindled friendship with the Marquis' son. If I were to marry him, I would earn a high ranking in society, which was, in society, my only job in life.

"It seems he did," I mused, still looking out the window. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing Georges' cheeks turn a slight shade of crimson.

"Are you writing to him?"

"Yes, on our way out of the theatre we exchanged addresses," I confirmed.

"Perfect." He nodded.

"George, please, I just met the man," I sighed. He gave another smug look and laughed. The rest of the ride was bumpy, but I kept zoning out, thinking of Georges: His eyes, that mesmerized me beyond belief; how his eyes held so much kindness and compassion in them.

But, in that moment, I also thought of Philip. What was he doing? How did he feel about the entire situation? What would he think of Georges?

✿

1 week later

✿

"Oh, you're too kind, Georges." You blushed as you were handed a daisy. You had started to grow interested in him, even when you saw just how hard he was flirting with you. He definitely did not inherit the witty charms of his father, but rather the intelligent quirks of his mother.

"My father insisted that I get one for you," he confessed as you took the gentle flower. You chuckled to yourself at the thought of the marquis trying to teach his son how to charm a lady. You looked at the daisy and studied its simple yet intricate features. You never noticed before how so many details could fit onto one small flower.

"Thank you, Georges," You said sincerely.

"Are you ready to go?" He asked, reaching out to take your hand to lead you towards the carriage that awaited you. Georges had planned for a day out in the Palace of Versailles gardens for just the two of you. You were excited about the day and anxious to see what it held for you.

"Yes," you responded, taking his hand. He led you to the carriage, where he helped you get up on the high steps. You took a seat on the left side, with Georges sitting on the right. The ride was bumpy as always, but it didn't seem to phase your mind as you made light conversation with him.

You broke off some of the stem and placed the flower in between your ear as a joke, hiding the stem in your hair. Once it was set in place,  
you turned to Georges to show off your new look. He smiled, looking into your eyes. You laughed and reached up to take it out. But before you could, he stopped you.

"Wait, keep it, it looks pretty like that." You put your hands back down in your lap and smiled at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw white dots scattering the window. Your eyes lit up, and your body turned away from Georges, moving the curtains out the way. They revealed the outside, which was becoming covered with snow. You had always been infatuated with the snow. Even though it was quite frequent in New York, each time the white snowflakes came down from the sky, you dedicated that day to observe the beauty of it. It was a light snowfall, not as heavy as compared to New York.

You had traveled for about twenty more minutes when suddenly, the carriage came to a halt. You braced yourself, instinctively grasping a hand onto Georges' arm and another leaning against the wall in front of you. Once the carriage fully stopped, you regained your composure, your heart still racing from the small scare.

You made your way through the carriage and out of the door, your feet crunching in the snow. Georges took your hand as you made your way down the steps, noticing how warm your hands were despite the cold weather. A rush of frigid wind breezed over your skin, making your body shudder under the icy touch. You pulled your cloak closer to you, wrapping it more around your body.

The bottom edges of your dress darkened in color, slightly soaked from the light powder that graced the ground, but you didn't mind. You were too busy looking around at the magnificent palace in front of you. As you both walked across the Marble Court and approached the actual building, you could see the intricate designs that outlined the walls, made out of pure gold.

He led you through the start of the castle so seamlessly, almost as if he lived there. You scanned your surroundings as he led you through the first few rooms. The floor was marble, the color of green, white, and red color dancing across the slab, creating a random design on each tile.

"How do you know your way so well?" He led you through another hall. You took in the grand paintings that covered the ceilings and depicted cherubs and prophets, along with some gods and goddesses. The hall was lined with white and grey marble instead of gold, and the floor was checkered. You could smell a faint vanilla scent as you exited the hall and entered another room.

"When I was a child, and when my father still held the respect of the French, he would bring me along with him to his meetings here in the palace. I would roam these endless halls, discovering every secret this palace had to offer." You walked on through, making sharp turns and opening new doors.

Georges would never forget his adventures within the walls you both were in. He showed his hiding places as a child, some he used when he would hear the guards approaching. Some were meaner than others, and some, when they caught him, would simply smile to themselves and pretend they never saw him.

He remembers one particular moment when he was first introduced to Versailles, and when he met all the boring old men that his father was speaking with. He was exploring one of the smaller main halls, and at the end of that hall was a door. The door was unlocked, so Georges welcomed himself in. It was an orchestra room, filled with a piano, violin, harp, and many other instruments. Georges' eyes lit up, and he raced towards the piano. He began to play, convinced that no one could hear the sweet melodic tunes.

But in the room next door, Marie Antoinette was hosting her regular tea meeting with other dauphines and duchesses. The conversation they were having came to a stop as soon as they heard the piano suddenly begin to play, and the queen was now interested in whoever was playing. Georges was so immersed in finishing the piece that he didn't notice the presence of the others until heard an applause coming from the door where the ladies were now standing. He remembers a tint growing on his cheeks but also felt panic and fear that he would get in trouble. But he was surprised to see the queen walk towards the other instruments and sat down next to the harp. She motioned for him to begin playing again, and joined in with him, creating the most beautiful sound Georges had ever heard. It would be an encounter Georges would always remember.

Georges was pulled out of his reminiscing when he heard you gasp at the view in front of you. You hadn't even stepped outside and you were already amazed by the beauty of the vast land that went on for miles.

The flowers gained your attention almost immediately as you began your way through the garden. The flowers still shone brightly from the little sliver of sunlight that made its way through a breach in the overcasting clouds. There were flowers you could recognize right away, and some you had never seen before that only captivated you even more. You both slowly walked through, taking in all of your surroundings. It was a pleasant stroll, the birds chirping and the butterflies floating around you.

"Please, tell me more about yourself," Georges asked, bringing your attention from the flowers to his face.

"Well," You began, wondering where to even start.

"I grew up with a family, but when my mother died a few years ago, my father left, leaving my brother and me to make a living on our own. I reside still with my older brother, who happens to also be named George." He frowned at the beginning but smiled when I mentioned the similarity between his family and mine.

"I lived in New York for most of my life, moving to Pennsylvania once, but only a for a few months. And now, I live here." I smiled.

"Do you miss your friends back in New York?" Georges asked. You pursed your lips a bit, thinking about Theo and the Hamilton family.

"Very much so. I miss my best friend, Theodosia, who I've known ever since I was thirteen. She is such a loyal person, and she holds a special place in my heart. But who I miss the most is a gentleman named Philip. Philip Hamilton, in fact. We've been friends for about two years, and we've gotten close. His family is the sweetest, and he is a wonderful person to hold a conversation with." You smiled as you thought of Philip. You noticed out of the corner of your eye Georges frowning slightly, but still trying to maintain a smile.

"You speak very highly of him. Are you courting him?" He asked, sounding uneasy. You chuckled, which made Georges raise an eyebrow.

"No, we're just very good friends," You assured him. He nodded his head in understanding. He was happy with your answer, but deep down he knew that Philip was the person you truly loved, not him. Even if you did somehow love him, you would always think of Philip and reserve a special place for him in your heart. But it's worth a chance while he still has the time.

✿

You observed how softly the tall grass swayed back and forth around you, mellow in sound and appearance. You wanted to feel the breeze like the grass did. Removing the hood off of your head, you unclasped your cloak and let it drop. The cloak fell in the grass, only creating a rustling sound. Georges stood behind you, questioning your actions. The frosty wind bit your skin, making you shiver. Picking up the bottom of your white silk dress, you took a deep breath, and ran.

At first, your pace was slow, a slight jog it seemed. But the movement of your legs got faster and faster until you were racing across the field. Why were you running? You didn't know.

Was it the relationship you had with your brother? No.

Was it because of Georges? Maybe.

Was it because you moved? It couldn't be.

Was it because of the euphoria you were experiencing? Perhaps.

Was it because of Philip?

You stopped running.

Philip. The name that never left your life and almost always filled your thoughts. You turned around and looked back, seeing Georges only the size of a folded letter in the distance. Even though he was far away, you could see his head tilted to the side slightly, puzzled.

No. It wasn't because of Philip.

You collapsed into a sitting position on the ground, breathless. You picked at the daisies that were similar to the one in your hair. Strands of your hair were now loosely held together by the ribbon you used to tie your hair up initially.

It took a little while for Georges to catch up to you. When he did, he simply sat down next to you. You fiddled with a daisy, picking away its beauty. Your dress was sprawled out, encircling you. You leaned back on your arms, the daisy still in your hand. All that was heard was the rustling of the grass and the soft hum that was coming from you.

It was silent the entire time you both sat there. It was a comfortable silence, however, never becoming too awkward over not knowing what to say.

Finished with the time out in the field, you decided you wanted to go back to the palace and look around some more. You got up, motioning for Georges to go with you. The both of you walked slowly back to the cobblestone steps where the field stopped. Georges draped your cloak over your shoulders, but you didn't clasp it.

The snow began to fall again, a light trickle of snowflakes. You turned your head upward and smiled, feeling a snowflake touch the tip of your nose. The warmth of your skin melted the speck, however, but it was soon replaced by another. Fully absorbed in the atmosphere around you, you hadn't noticed a patch of ice that was still frozen on the ground. You took a step forward, slipping on ice that hadn't melted. You yelped, feeling the movement of your body fall backward, your cloak slipping from your shoulders.

You braced your body for impact on the hard, cold ground. Georges wasn't able to react in time to catch you, so you landed on the ground. You groaned, pain pulsing through your body. Georges looked down at you with guilt in his eyes, angry and himself for not catching you and sparing you discomfort. He apologized, which you quickly dismissed, claiming that it was solely your fault. He held out his hands and pulled you back up. You looked down to see your cloak now damp in some places from being on the melting ground. You frowned and draped it over your arm. Georges reached out and took the cloak from you, insisted that he hold it instead. You thanked him and continued on.

The gray clouds still covered the sky, the sun trying to peek its way through.

The bells of the chapel rang out loud and clear. It was almost noon, but your day out wasn't over yet. Close to limping, you slowly sauntered with Georges to the palace, taking precautions with every step. You turned your head back at the field, taking a last look at the beauty of it.

✿

It seemed queer that when you walked through the door, you spotted a piece of stone in the corner. You strayed from the direction in which Georges was going and went to the corner, bend down. You picked up the shard, feeling the edges that could open your skin. You flip it over, revealing half of a face. Just by looking at the expression in one eye, you could see that the person who the stone was held responsibility and honor, along with gracefulness and lovingness. You could almost see the carefree expression in the stone eye.

You slipped the fragment of stone into the hidden pocket that Ruth had sewn in for you and caught up with Georges.

You discovered the rest of the abandoned palace, seeing the old paintings that still somehow hung on the walls. You admired how intricate the details were and how well the painters captured the essence of the scene and person that delicately smiled in the unmoving portrait.

The king's chambers were the most elegant room you've ever seen by far. The gold crown molding and the grand bed that was set with fine and ornate linens completely took your breath away. Your eyes and fingers traced the designs of the bed canopy that was made of silk.

You grinned, closing your eyes and imagining what it would be like if you lived there. You could already see it: waking up with maids around you, ready to treat you like the queen you would be. 

You twirled, taking in the soft smell of lilies.

But when you twirled, your clumsiness got to you, and you tripped over your foot. Georges had already failed you a first time, and he wasn't about to fail you again. Determined not to have you get hurt twice in one day, he lunged forward, catching you in the midst of your fall. He held you with an arm around your back and another holding onto your side. You got your head in order, seeing Georges clearly. You found him smirking, coming up with a clever remark. 

"Did you slip again?" He asked.

You pulled down the lapels of his jacket, bringing his mouth to yours. Fireworks went off. He kissed you back with the same amount of passion, still holding on to you. You felt the euphoria from the action and reveled in it. The air seemed different, time seemed to slow down. He pulled you back up and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him desperately. You both pulled away at the same time, looking into each other's eyes. You smiled at him, thinking about how happy you were to have met Georges. 

You pulled him in for another kiss. Knowing that the bed was behind you, you pulled him forward while you walked backward, the back of your legs bumping into the frame. Slowly, you leaned back, not breaking the kiss with Georges, until you were laying on the bed with Georges hovering above you. 

✿


	19. 1800

✿

1800

New York Shipment Ports 

✿


	20. jabs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my longest chapter yet. over 5000 words.

November 2nd, 1800

✿

The clank of your leather boots that fit tight around your feet on the wooden steps of the boat made you realize that you had safely made it back to New York. It had only been a year that had passed, but it seemed far longer without the sight of your friends. Of course, you had made some acquaintances back in Paris, but they could never replace the few that you had in America.

Coming off of the last step, you stopped and looked around at the familiar scene: A flurry of people conversing with others, herders collecting sheeps and pigs onto boats for shipping, profanities being spoken and prostitutes stalking the ground, along with the stench of animal droppings mixed with the salty sea.

You were definitely home.

You turned your head back to Georges, who was absorbing his surroundings as well. It wasn't his first time stepping on American land, but his memory wasn't as chaotic compared to what he was seeing now. Holding your case as well as his own, he took a step towards you, arriving at your side. Your brother George, along with a servant from the boat walked passed you and to a carriage that was parked at the side of the road awaiting you. Georges caught up with your brother, getting lost in the crowded sea of humans but eventually finding his way to the carriage.

You took one more minute to yourself to look around at the world you once knew. Only a few things had changed: One being the election of 1800 just starting, with Jefferson against Adams. You hadn't known much about the two men or their ideas to choose a favorite, but with the popularity of them, you knew that tension was soon to rise.

Seeing that the carriage was ready to depart, you snaked your way through the crowd. You nodded your head once at the coach who kept the door open, closing it when you got in. Georges gave you a gentle smile as you sat down on the plush seats. George was across from the two of you, already busied with documents and letters. The jolt of the horse beginning to pull the carriage jerked your body slightly.

You played with the lace on your dress, one that Georges' mother had made for you. His mother had been almost like your own during your time in Paris. She had a very skilled hand, creating the most beautiful garments you had ever seen. She cared for you too, along with her other daughters, who also enjoyed your presence.

Georges captured your hand within his, clasping his fingers in-between your own. You returned the action, squeezing his gently.

The road was still unpleasantly bumpy as you remembered, having to brace yourself when the wheel rode over particularly large blocks of stone that comprised the street. You still held Georges' hand, his thumb lightly swiping back and forth on the back of your palm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw George glance at you and Georges' affection, smiling to himself. George was more than content about your relationship with Georges. Not only did he know that he would inherit money if you two were to wed, but he also knew that you would be happy spending the remainder of your years with Georges.

Your mind wandered off into familiar places: the wellness of your friends and the plans for the future. You began to ponder over your future years as of late, wondering if it would change or progress smoothly. You were so deep into your thoughts that you almost didn't notice the carriage going past the direction of your household.

"George, where might we be heading?" You asked. George's head looked up from the column he was reading.

"Vice President Jefferson is hosting a dinner at his estate and said that you were welcome to attend. Forgive me for not informing you earlier." You nodded your head in understanding, pursing your lips.

It took quite a while for you to arrive in Monticello. The sun was just about to set by the time the carriage pulled up to the vast acres of land.

You stretched your limbs as soon as you made it out of the carriage. The fallen leaves from trees were scattered around your feet, crunching when stepped on.

Smoothing out your partially strewn hair and readjusting your gown, you walked on the stone path that led to the entrance to avoid flattening the healthy, green grass the complimented the mansion. A servant was waiting for you, ready to lead you inside. Climbing the marble steps, you smiled gently at the servant, who only gave a quick nod in acknowledgment. The servant took the cloak and jackets as he led the sum of you to the main entrance hall.

For being a man you somewhat despised, you had to admit that Thomas Jefferson was a man with great design. All the colors flowed together and chairs and busts were perfectly aligned adjacent to each other. Curtains were still drawn, allowing the remaining daylight to peak it's way through. Christmas decorations glittered around the room, adding a warm holiday feel.

"Ah! How good to see you again, Mr. Eacker!" A jovial voice greeted. Your eyes went from the Native American artifacts strung up on the wall to the soon-to-be President himself.

A smile cracked on George's face as he responded, "Your humble servant." Mister Jefferson met George in the centre of the hall. "And I am yours. How does your family?" He asked, holding his hand out. George recognized Jefferson's own unusual way of greeting a person. Instead of the traditional bow or nod, he preferred a handshake. George noticed this the few times he had seen Jefferson before. George followed suit and shook Jefferson's hand firmly, still giving him a prompt nod as well.

"We just returned from Paris today, and we're a bit worn," George admitted.

"Paris? Magnificent place isn't it?" Jefferson smiled at the memory of his second home.

"Indeed. Mister Jefferson, I don't recall ever introducing you to my younger sister (Y/n)." Jefferson turned towards you, his arms folded behind his back.

"Good evening, sir," You greeted with a smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Eacker." Jefferson bowed at the waist, taking your waiting hand and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. You noticed how short you were compared to him as he came to full height.

Jefferson then turned to Georges, who was on your left. "And your name, good sir?" Jefferson inquired.

"Georges Washington de Lafayette." Jefferson's grin grew even wider. He placed his hands on Georges' shoulders.

"I wondered when I would be meeting you!" Jefferson turned and motioned for all of you to follow. "Come, come. Let us proceed!"

Jefferson escorted you to the main dining room, which already had a table set with dishware and silver. Servants hurried across, finishing the final touches to the table. The table was covered with the finest linen tablecloth you had ever seen. Each place had china plates, crystal glasses, and ivory-handled knives and forks. Candles were positioned every three hands. Saltcellars, each with a tiny spoon, and pepper mills were set in easy arm's reach of each plate. Only a few of the seats were filled with high government officials while some were still empty.

"Miss Eacker, the women are conversing in the Tea Room to the right if you wish to join them," Thomas offered.

You thanked him, making your way through the glass pane door outlined by rich wood. Inside was a separate table set up with women seated around it. The room went quiet as your mostly unfamiliar face entered, and you came to a halt.

"Nice to meet you all, I'm-"

Theodosia, bored beyond belief in a room with gossiping women, played with her spoon, shining it in the candlelight and observing every tiny scratch on the silver. As she heard your voice, she took a glance up but then back at her spoon. She did a double take, realizing that it was you who stood at the door.

"Y/n?"

You stopped mid-sentence as the voice interrupted you. You scanned the room searching for whoever spoke your name until your eyes came upon Theodosia.

"Y/n!" Theodosia cried. Remaining as proper as possible, Theodosia quickly stood up from her chair to pull you in for a hug. The ladies went back to their conversations with each other, ignoring the two of you.

"Theo!" You said, meeting her. You embraced each other tightly, not wanting to let go.

"Did you just return today?" She asked, separating her body from yours. You noticed an open seat at the end of the table, which was next to Theodosia.

"About four hours ago in fact," you said with an exhale. You took your seat and placed the cloth napkin on your lap, preparing to eat the first course of your meal. The basil cream soup that had been brought out instantaneously caught the attention of your sense of smell, thrusting your hand to ladle. After serving yourself the silky soup, you dipped a slice of un-buttered french bread into the appetizer, creating a fantastic mix of textures.

You heard more guests enter the mansion, and the open seats were filling up.

You were halfway done with the soup, reveling in the savory taste. You continued talking with Theodosia and had the chance to meet two of Jefferson's own daughters: Martha and Mary. They were insanely sweet and connected with you easily, though they were older. You picked up another spoonful of soup and ate, the spoon still in your hand.

"Please escort your mother to the tea room, Philip," Mr. Hamilton said from the Parlor.

Your eyes widened, recognizing the voice.

You dropped your spoon into the soup, emitting a loud clank of silver and glass colliding and catching the attention of the entire table. You hadn't expected the Hamiltons to be here.

You looked around at all the eyes on you and excused yourself with embarrassment, wiping the splatters of soup with your napkin.

You glanced up and down between your cleaning and the doorway, waiting for Philip to be there. You wanted to see his reaction when he saw you.

You glanced up one last time when you saw Philip, him making eye contact with you at the same time. He froze, just like you did and stared at you, his mouth open a tiny amount. It was hard to make out the expression on his face; you hadn't talked nor written to him in a year, and you began to feel guilty that you hadn't.

Philip stood—frozen—not knowing how to feel seeing you there in the chair. He wanted to believe that you were actually there, that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. The last time he had seen you were on a boat, fading from his sight and leaving him to wonder each day why. He began to wonder why you were here in the first place.

You kept your eye contact with him. Theodosia looked between you too, not knowing if there were unspoken messages being exchanged.

The calling of his name caught his attention, and he swiftly turned around, not looking back.

You had finished your appetizer, ready for the main course. But your anxiety started to build up inside you. If Philip found out that George Eacker was your brother, you would be shamed upon by the Hamiltons—for lying to them for a long time, and by your own brother for not taking pride in your own family name. You had decided to use Georges' presence as an excuse, but your stomach remained restless. The soup began to churn in your stomach, creating a disdainful sick feeling.

You excused yourself from the women's table. You attempted to build up the courage to interrupt the conversations of the men's table. Even though you could hear the men from the tea room quite well, as you got closer to the main dining room, the volume of the voices got incredibly louder. You could clearly see the drunkenness of some men and hear the vulgar jokes being spoken from others. You even noticed Jefferson sharing a laugh with Hamilton, something that you presumed to be a rarity.

It took until Jefferson completed his laugh to see you.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" He tried to quiet the obnoxious men down. They all finally settled down, and Jefferson, along with the rest of the men, all looked to you.

"Is there something you need, Miss (Y/n)?"

You thanked the Lord that he didn't address you by Miss Eacker.

You walked and stood behind the chair that Georges was seated in.   
"Mister Jefferson, I suddenly feel quite nauseous. Might you escort me to the nearest terrace so that I may get some brief air before our meal?" You put a hand on your stomach to emphasize the claim.

"Tu es malade, ma chère?" Georges turned around and asked in his native tongue. Philips' eyes went from you to Georges, his facial features changing with every emotion and question that went through his head. You mustered up a small smile and peered down at Georges. You don't even glance at Philip, who tried to not question the one word Georges called you.

"Not in slightest, Georges, I suppose I may just be quite tired from the travel. You need not worry," You assured him. He pursed his lips, searching your face for a lie. He nodded his head once.

"Of course. Excuse me, gentlemen, I'll be back in a moment," Jefferson smiled. You met him at the doorway, not giving a glance back, something that Philip wished you had done. 

You heard the conversion resume.

The trip to the terrace hadn't been long. When Jefferson opened the door, the chill of the early autumn air raised bumps on your skin.

"Thank you, Mister Jefferson," You said.

"You're welcome, Miss Eacker."

Before he could make his final step out of the terrace, you turned around.

"Mister Jefferson, how would you react if you found out that one of your daughters and Philip Hamilton were.... acquaintances?" You spoke freely, letting the thoughts escape your mind.

"It depends. How close of an acquaintance are we discussing here?" He lifted an eyebrow, trying to catch your reasoning behind the question.

"A close friendship, I would call it," You confirmed. He was silent for a moment, thinking.

"I would not allow it. Knowing my daughters, the feelings would go to their heart, and I would hate to see it break when he betrays them."

You were about to defend Philip, but stopped yourself and hesitated, looking at your hands. It was silent again for a moment. You didn't know if Thomas was going to leave you yet.

"Why do you ask such a question?" You turned around, your back facing Jefferson. You looked out onto the botanic garden. You sighed.

"Philip and I.....have a close friendship, though my brother doesn't know. I'm afraid that if I tell him, he will keep me away from Philip, and I'll be forbidden from ever seeing him again for the sole purpose of him being a Hamilton," You confessed.

"Pray, does Philip know who your brother is?"

"He believes that my last name is Williams. The entire Hamilton family does. That's the reason why I got anxious and asked to come out here when he arrived. If I have any interaction with my brother tonight or I'm called by my actual surname, Philip will definitely know I lied to him, and so will George. I can't let that happen, Mister Jefferson." You spoke fast, the words flying past the conscious part of your mind and out of your mouth.

A simple nod was his response.

"What can I do to help make this night run smoothly, Miss Williams?" The way he said your counterfeit name sent guilt crawling down your spine. It was for the greater good- you kept reminding yourself.

"Address me by Miss (Y/n), please, so that formalities are still present and do not ask my brother about me." He nodded again in understanding.

"That's all, I believe," You finalized.

"Do you wish to still catch some air, Miss (Y/n)?" You smiled at the suggested name being used.

"That would be nice. I'm sure I can find my way back independently. Thank you, Mister Jefferson."

"You are very welcome, Miss (Y/n)." He bowed at the waist and then left you with your thoughts.

A couple minutes later, you decided to go back, feeling like you had done enough contemplation.

The men's table was quiet as you entered. You noticed how the empty table top had been occupied by all the new food. The cook had prepared enough to feed a battalion: stewed oysters, potted larks, pheasant stuffed with figs, greens cooked with bacon, buttered parsnips, watermelon rind, and macaroni topped with melted cheese.

The wine steward made his first round about the table, filling each of the men's glasses with gold sparkling champagne.

You saw the back of Jefferson as he stood up, along with all of the other men raising their glasses. You kept your body still, not wanting to interrupt the toast.

Philip saw you as you entered the dining room again, distracting him as he stood. He kept his eyes on you.

As Jefferson was about to speak, he caught Philip peering at you behind him. Following his line of sight, he turned around, seeing you.

"Ah! Miss (Y/n)! Are you feeling better?"

You remained in your place.

"Yes, thank you."

"Would you like to make the toast?"

You hesitated, not knowing whether you should or not.

"Sure," You said, giving in.

"Wonderful!" Jefferson cheered, stepping aside and handing you his glass of the bubbling champagne. You obtained his glass and his spot, conjuring up something to say. You took a long breath.

"A toast.. to life. May neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, the angels protect you, and heaven accepts you. So that while we are here on this earth, our lives can be fulfilling, and we can cherish,"

You looked at Georges.

"Our new relationships,"

You looked at Philip.

"And our new adventures." You smiled gently at him.

✿

"Another round here, dear," Thomas Jefferson beckoned. The new wine steward who had taken place of the first swiftly sauntered over to her master's chair, her two long braids swaying back and forth. The smooth liquid ran down from the pitcher and into the crystalline glass.

The night had managed to run its course smoothly with no mishaps. Eliza asked about your time in Paris, holding another Elizabeth in her arms. She allowed you to hold baby Elizabeth and she was the most darling infant you had ever held. You could predict she was going to have a personality similar to Philip: collected and quiet on the inside but sharp and intelligent on the outside.

You were in the middle of confiding most of the events that took place at Versailles. Eliza noted the sparkle in your eye when you described Georges. It reminded her if how she felt seeing Alexander for the first time. She smiled when she saw how flowery you had described the events, the emotions running through you. When she first meet you, she had wondered if you would fall in love with Philip, but you showed her a greater love for someone than she had ever seen besides her own.

"Excuse me ladies, but would you like to dance my dear Eliza?" Hamilton stepped up to you and Eliza. A gentle blush graced her cheeks, and she placed the sleeping baby into the woven basket she had brought with her.

"Of course, my Alexander, but allow me to put the baby into a room so that she may not be disturbed."

Alexander nodded, taking her hand in his.

You watched from the table as Eliza was lifted from her seat and walked past the dancing room, which was also the dining room thanks to a convenient folding table that Jefferson had.

They danced along with the other couples, fully immersed in the music and showing the same passion that they held for each other.

The dance had gotten quite rigorous, but it was soon over. Everyone cheered when the song came to a sudden ending, reaching for their breath. Hamilton and Eliza shared a small laugh, the regenerating love evident in their eyes.

Hamilton stepped away from Eliza as she turned to get a refreshment and walked towards the entrance to collect his coat.

"Leaving so soon, Hamilton?" Jefferson commented from behind.

"I'm afraid we must get ready to take our leave, Jefferson."

"Oh but the night is still young."

"But my body is old and tired, Mister Jefferson,"

"Old? Why, I happen to be twelve years worn than you!"

The two men shared another laugh, the rare peace remaining between them.

"One more dance Alexander, please" Eliza pleaded, a smile on her lips.

"Oh, all right," Hamilton gave in.

"Huzzah!" Jefferson cheered.

You enjoyed the company of the people around you, dancing with Theo for most of the time. You laughed with her, spinning around playfully as other couples danced around you.   
The tempo of the next song was slow and meaningful, perfect for a dance with Georges. 

You looked around for Georges, but couldn't find him within the crowd. You decided to go upstairs and search.

The loud music was enough to drown out the sounds of Georges grunting in agonizing distress in desperate attempt to defend himself from upstairs in the Dome Room.

Although Georges was older than Philip, his slender frame resulted in him being knocked down without much effort.

"Georges!" You called out from outside in the hallway, hoping that he would respond.

You waited for a couple of seconds in search for a response.

From inside the room, Georges heard your voice, and used the opportunity to be noticed.

"(Y/n)! Ici!" He called back. You sharply turned your head to the door that the voice came from, and you smiled, preparing to joke with him about his disappearance from the party.

You burst into the circular room, a smile on your face and your adrenaline peaking.

"Georges! There you are! We need to da-" You stopped mid-sentence when you saw the scene in front of you.

There lay Georges, curled into a ball with his hand over his head for protection, and Philip over him, aimlessly throwing punches at Georges' lean frame.

You instantly accelerated your feet towards the tense bodies, lunging your arms at Philip in attempt to shove him away. The force of your strength sent his concrete body to the ground.

You panicked seeing Georges' damaged body, and quickly helped him get to a chair. He grimaced with each motion as you settled him into the seat.

You grazed a hand over Georges' soft and clear features, which were now disrupted with lacerations and bruises. He looked up to you with the pain that you could easily see in his eyes.

Philip soon recovered, however, and got back on his feet. He tightened his fist and prepared to strike Georges again.

You turned around, a sense in your body telling you to. Before you could fully turn, Philip shoved you to the side. You fell, tripping on your dress.

Philip assaulted Georges once again, bringing a jab to his stomach. Georges was too frail to defend himself. He heaved, the breath removed from his lungs. You recovered quickly as well, staggering to your feet. Philip raised his fist in the air again, but before he could strike Georges again, you jumped in front of Georges, protecting him from Philips fist.

Philip stopped mid-motion, refusing to complete his action and hit you. Both of you held sharp gazes at each other, taking in short puffs of air. 

"Why, would you do that?!" You spoke low but increased in volume, ending your sentence in a shout.

"I was trying to protect you," He said instead of revealing the true reason. It was really the jealousy that had fueled his anger and harsh actions towards Georges.

"What? Protect me? From who? The man I love?!" Philips heart skips a beat. Even though you had been away for a year, he had began to think that maybe you had loved him this entire time, but the words you spoke denied the notion.

"You don't love him," He seethed through gritted teeth, trying to deny it.

"How would you know? How would you even know what love is? All you do is flirt, Philip. You flirt with every lady that crosses you path. But what do you even get out it? Love? No. You get an ego out of it, just like Jefferson, just like Maria Reynolds, and just like your father!" You forced him to the ground again.

Tears began to pool in Philips eyes, his anger boiling from the harsh words spewing out of your mouth. "Any girl could fall in love you, Philip, and you would know it. But every girl will never know if you love them back."

"I wish you never went to France!" Philip yelled, clenching his fists. His mind was filled with so many emotions that it was so hard for him to conjure up any sensible words.

"And I wish I never met you!" You yelled a couple decimals louder than him, your anger bursting at the seams.

In that moment, it was quiet. Philips' eyes widened, and the tears finally went down his cheek. That's when you noticed, however, the damage you had done. Your tension dropped, and your eyes quickly held guilt.

Philip then narrowed his eyes, staring daggers into your soul.

"Then get out of my life, and never talk to me again," He spat.

"Wait," You said, trying to take back what you had said impulsively.

"Leave!" It was to no avail. Your eyes filled with frustration at his unwavering words. An idea crossed his mind, and he turned his attention to Georges.

"Georges, I challenge you to a duel. Let it take place two days from today, at dawn. Meet me at the St. Paul Chapel. Do you accept?"

"No," You whispered. You couldn't even fathom the thought of loosing Georges, or even worse, Philip. Although Philip had just beaten your love, Philip was one of your closest friends.

Georges mustered up all of his strength and spoke to you.

"One thing my father always taught me to do was stand up for the ones I love. (Y/n), I love you, and I would proudly risk my life for you."

"Please, Georges, don't do this," You pleaded.

Georges turned to Philip.

"I-,"

"What's going on here?" Thomas Jefferson himself bellowed. One of Jeffersons servants appeared beside him. Jefferson raised an eyebrow, noticing Philips bloody fists and Georges' beaten body. Georges, realizing he was interrupted, turned his attention towards Philip again.

"I accept your challenge."

"No!" You screamed, the tears releasing from your eye ducts.

"James, assist Georges to a guest room. Have Sally clean and repair his wounds," James rushed forward to help Georges stand up. He struggled coming to his feet, the pain from the injuries wracking through his body. He put Georges' right arm over his shoulder and grasped his side.

Jefferson moved to the side, and James slowly walked with Georges to a separate room on the east wing. You followed after them, crying.

While you were out of the room, Jefferson looked back at Philip, who was wiping the blood from his knuckles. He glared up at Jefferson. Jefferson took a deep sigh.

"Listen," Jefferson began in a solemn and sympathetic voice. "Don't remove her out of your life, for when she's really gone, and you won't be able to see her again until you go too, you'll regret saying those words."

Philip still glared at Jefferson, trying to heed his fathers advice about not listening to Jefferson. But he looked into Jeffersons eyes and saw the sorrow they held, which made his expression soften.

"Don't hurt the person you love, Philip,"

Philip furrowed his brow. "But I don't love Geor-"

"(Y/n)." Jefferson sighed. "That's who I was referring to. You hurt the person she loves, and i'm doing so, you hurt her even more."

✿

Jefferson put on a cordial smile as he entered the dancing room.

"Mister Eacker?" He tapped George's shoulder. "May I request a quick word with you?"

"Of course, Mister Jefferson."

Jefferson escorted George to the hallway. "Mister Eacker, I'm afraid that Georges is suddenly ill. I have him quartered in a separate guest room on the east side, and I would be happy to house him here until he regains his health. His father and I are old friends so I imagine he will be okay with it."

"That's very unfortunate. If it is no problem, thank you for attending to him."

"Oh, it's not a problem at all!"

"Where is (Y/n)?" George wondered.

"Simply checking on Georges," Jefferson assured with a calm smile.

George nodded in understanding.

They walked back to the dancing room, where Hamilton and Eliza were finishing up their final dance. They were the most loveliest couple in the room, dancing so elegantly as they did when they were young.

The dance came to an end, and they received a round of applause from the guests who were circled around them.

"Pleasure dancing with you, Miss Eliza," Hamilton said, kissing the gold wedding ring on his wife's delicate hand.

"As with you, my Alexander," Eliza responded. The guests began to fill the space around them, joining for another dance.

"Wait one moment, my Alexander, I have to check on Elizabeth."

"Of course, my dear. I'll go and bid our goodbyes to everyone."

Eliza departed from Hamilton, going up the stairs to the second floor.

She hummed the tune of the music she danced to, smiling at the memory and the love they shared. It was still ripped, but is was currently in the progress of being sewn back together.

She went to the room in which she laid Elizabeth down in, expecting it to be only her in the room. She was surprised, a hand flying to her chest as soon as she opened the door. Philip was in the room with Elizabeth.

"Oh! There you are Philip," Eliza quipped. Philip was sitting on the side of the bed, his green eyes staring sweetly into her matching ones.

The baby gurgled, blubbering abstruse words as Philip rubbed a finger across her soft cheek. Eliza walked over to the bed Elizabeth was laid on, putting a hand over Philips shoulder.

Eliza smiled at the baby, joyful of the interactions between the her eldest son and her newest daughter. But then, Eliza's gaze went from the baby to Philips hand, and her smile faltered.

"Philip, what happened to your knuckles?" Eliza gasped at the sight of the broken skin of his hands.

Philip didn't answer.

"Philip, what happened?" Eliza grew impatient, growing desperate for a reply.

He still didn't answer.

"Philip, what did you do?" Her voice grew more panicked from the lack of response.

"Mom, I need to talk to Pops."


	21. kill

November 3rd, 1800

"You did what?" His father hissed, a sudden rage and vexation becoming noticed through the rising tone of his voice. In all his years had Alexander never fathomed the thought of his eldest and brightest son thrust himself upon a situation he was still much too young to understand, let alone participate in.

"I was livid, Pops!" Philip's face flushed red as he snapped. He shook his head aggressively and slashed his hand in a downward motion as if his fingers were a shard blade that cut through the tension-filled air. "He doesn't deserve to have her!" he blustered.

"Is that why you challenged him? Out of amourous entitlement?" Alexander sneered back. The question brought Philip to a halt; it was true. He despised how you fell for Georges so suddenly despite knowing him for only a year while you had known Philip for three. He cared for you, yet it seemed to him that you never did. He changed his personality, actions, and everything in between for you, but all you still saw was an egotistical guy who took heart-eyed ladies for advantage and lived in a broken family.

His father brought a finger to rest against his temple.

"It is only honor that you should risk your life for. It was not her honor that you were defending and now it is your honor that is being tested, Philip! How half-witted can you be?!" The older Hamilton shouted. Philip hadn't realized what he truly got himself into. He turned around and ran a hand through his hair. Philip could feel the sweat on his scalp from his heated temperature. His feet paced as he thought of how to respond. The anxiousness made his hands clam up and possess a small tremor.

"I..." He began, feeling the tears approach.

"I've ruined myself," He spluttered, eyes rimmed with more inevitable tears. He clenched his jaw tight enough to send the pressure to his head. It was all he could say and think of at the moment, and his statement came to a close.

"Philip."

His jaw unclenched as he heard the mellowed and fretful whimper of his name from his mother. He hesitated a glance towards her, not wanting to see the disappointment he had caused her.

"Philip," she croaked with firmer undertones. Philip looked at her and saw exactly what he predicted: shiny streaks of salty tears falling from distressed eyes. He noticed she held the same look from the day her husband published the cursed pamphlet, which only caused a sharper pang in his heart. It was the state of his mother that made the waiting tears slip.

"Come here," she said. Unable to disobey his mother, Philip shuffled to the couch where Eliza was seated and sat in her lap with their legs perpendicular to each other. He bent his legs and curled himself into the position of a fetus. They both wrapped their arms around the other's torsos, with Philip burying his face in her shoulder and Eliza leaning her head against his. Philip began to cry in the refuge of his mother's hold. 

"I thought she loved me," Philip whispered, only audible to his mother's ear. 

"I know, I know," Eliza whispered back in an attempt to calm her son. She caressed his head, her hand flowing over the waves and curls of his dry hair.

"I thought...I thought she at least cared for me," He choked out as Eliza gave her conflicted son a kiss on the head. For a few minutes they were like this, experiencing the comfort between a mother and her son.

The last of the tears had fallen, and Philip wiped his runny nose with the white sleeve of his linen shirt. He stood up, lifting his weight off of Eliza's lap.

He looked to his father, whose front was faced towards the hearth with an arm leaning against the mantel.

"Pops," Philip said, his tone subdued. He stood with the minimal dignity that remained within him. Alexander didn't turn around; only his head turned at an acknowledging angle. "I apologize," Philip continued, wiping the last tear from his eye. He heard an irritated sigh from his father.

"I will write to Doctor Hosack with request for his attendance," Alexander responded. Though his father couldn't see, Philip nodded in understanding.

He thought back to what Thomas Jefferson said to him before he departed from his estate.

"You hurt the person she loves, and in doing so, you hurt her even more."

Philip began to contemplate the actions he would take on the grass field in two days time. He thought, in his mind, that if he didn't shoot Georges, Georges still might shoot. You would continue your life with him while he'd be dead or gravely injured. On the other hand, if he did shoot Georges, that would leave him alive and unharmed and you heartbroken and hurt. Then again, in his mind, you deserved it.

"What about when I have to take my shot? Should I shoot at him? Or should I waste it?"

It was silent as Philip awaited his father's answer.

"Do what you feel is right. Just, remember our honor."

With that, Philip watched his father leave the great room, not sparing a glance back at him.

Philip felt stupid for challenging Georges, seeing the disappointment in his parents. All he ever wanted to do was make his father proud, but there he was, feeling disowned by him.

His father's answer hadn't brought much resolve to his inquiry, either. Philip could retain his honor by shooting as well as throwing it away. He couldn't decide between the two options.

"Momma?" Eliza quickly wiped the noticeable tears and turned around, seeing James standing underneath the kitchen threshold. He held a pitcher filled with water, as he had initially gone to the well in the backyard to retrieve the clear refreshment. Philip continued looking at the door where his father exited, his face now emotionless.

"Yes, my darling?" She put on a smile for the young boy, though she could see the concern as a result of an overheard conversation.

"Is Philip going to be alright?" The pubescent questioned.

"Don't fret, my dear. In the end, everything will turn out just fine. Now, off to bed. It's very late." The concern lifted from James' features and a soft smile appeared.

"Okay. Goodnight Momma," James said, his sentence punctuated with a yawn. He passed through the great room, looking up at Philip to give him a smile as well, which faded, and he continued his way through the room. As he came to the threshold, he came to halt. He looked back at Philip, who stood frozen with the eyes of a troubled and shameful soul. His faded smile turned into a frown and the concern returned to his face. Eliza didn't want James to worry about Philip's predicament and began to fear the eye contact between her two sons.

"Sweet dreams, my dear." Eliza murmured, breaking James' stare and sending him on his way.

✿

You took hesitant yet giddy steps towards your door, excited to see Ruth and tell her all of what went on while abroad. You couldn't imagine what else she might have done during your absence beside her duties as a maid, but your overwhelmed mind only focused on seeing a friend again. George was behind you, carrying your luggage along with the liability of an ill man.

Your steps became less cautious going up the path halfway. The curtains were closed, denying your eyes access to the sight of the inside walls of your home. George, his pace slightly slower with the added weight finally caught up with you at the door.

Your eyes traced the ingraining of the wood, wondering how many days it took to the make the door beautiful as it was seen then. Each rectangle had tiny vines around the border with small circles in each corner, accenting the simple design.

George set a case down and fished for the house key in his pocket. You watched his hand retrieve the key and place it in the silhouetted keyhole, turning it to the left until a click was heard. A smile appeared on your face as you pushed all past events and controversies behind and yearned to say hello to Ruth again.

You were the first to rush into the house, your intentions exciting you, but after only two steps your legs came to a halt. Your sudden stop gave George a scare, and his body jerked back to prevent collision.

"Woah. Please (Y/n), you almost caused me to drop our things," your sibling said from behind.

The ominous feeling returned, and stronger this time.

"Sorry," you replied in an uneasy voice. "Why aren't any candles lit?" You felt the anxiety creep up to you as your nose caught a whiff of a sepulchral stench that infiltrated the darkness, sending chills down your spine. The only source of light inside came from a candle perched on a wall-bolted holder.

Wax pooled the drip-pan, and the short candle was drowning in its own liquified form. You covered your airways with the palm of your hand to mask out the smell, but the ghastly odor was too prominent for your hand to be of any use. George caught a sniff of the same stench and buried his nose and mouth into his high collar like a cowering turtle.

"Ruth?" You called out into what seemed like an empty abyss. You waited desperately for a moment, waiting for any reply in her voice.

"Shh, perhaps she is just sleeping," George said. The tension in your body diminished, feeling a fool for getting so worked up, yet you couldn't ignore the gruesome stench.

The older brother between you and the threshold and set the trunks down, switiching from muffling his face in the jacket to doing the same with his cravat. Pulling a drawer from a stand nearby, he took a fresh candle and handed it to you. You straightened the wick, putting it against the flame of the drowning candle, transferring the orange and yellow blaze to the new candle cord. You placed it in the nuzzle of the lantern that hung outside on a hook.

You could hear George slightly gag beside you as you began to walk down the hallway, illuminating the path for you and George.

"What is that wretched smell?" George asked rhetorically, scrunching his face while taking short breaths. It was intoxicating, and he felt his stomach swirling unpleasantly with each accidental deep inhale.

"I wouldn't know," you insisted.

"Smells like the depths of hell. Here, help me get these to our bedrooms and then we can find out what is causing that stench." George handed one of the many trunks to you, and with your free hand, you carried it to your chambers.

The smell wasn't as strong above stairs as it was below, but that didn't stop your senses from being in a state of repugnance.

After placing your belongings at the foot of your bed, you felt a liberty to investigate. The feeling gave you a sort of thrill you hadn't experienced since your exploration at Versailles.

You quickly creeped down stairs to where the biggest piece of investigative evidence was obvious. Holding your breath seemed to be an option, but it wouldn't allow you to trace the scent to its source.

Gripping the candle holder, you inched toward around the house until you found the area where the fumes were more prominent: the parlour. The place was very unfamiliar to you, as it gave you a certain feeling that always gathered in the pit of your stomach whenever you passed it. It was at the back, more secluded parts of the house, only being accessible through the dining room.

As you adjusted your grip on the holder, you noticed they became clammy as your anxiety began to increase with each step you took. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, but for some reason you kept walking forward and pushed the halfway-open door fully wide. It revealed the smell to be its source, and it just about made you hurl right then and there.

You stepped inside, immediately seeing something one would count as odd if they just came home from a year long trip: the wine cellar door was open. Unless Ruth had gone down to indulge herself with some spirits, the door was almost never open, because George had the key. Ruth would've had to destroy the lock that protected the wine or steal the key right before you and George left for France.

The only time you'd seen Ruth, or anyone retrieve a bottle from the cellar was way back when your parents hosted formal gatherings, or when your brother hosted an informal get together with a couple of friends.

You approached the cellar door that was set open on its hinge. When you peeked down, your sweaty hands made it almost quite easier for the candle holder to slip from your fingers.

Your face contorted with horror, and your lip trembled in speechlessness as your eyes bulged at the sight. There Ruth was, grotesque in position and absent of life. Her head was turned like the owls you had seen in the Virginian trees and her eyes just as wide open. A dark, red halo surrounded the crown of her head and her body, discolored and bloated, still seemed most recognizable to you.

Insects were already feasting on her, maggots traveling from the inside to the outside of her and back again and their elder form, flies, swarming around like humans to a breaking news headline.

"George!" you shouted, your voice holding a tremble caused by the traumatic sight.

✿  
November 4th, 1800

Philip slept soundly that night despite the predicaments that haunted him. From the second his eyes opened, he thought of the events that would occur the next day. He knew those thoughts wouldn't cease from his mind,

He turned to a note on his bed stand, informing him that his mother and younger siblings had all gone out to the park.

It was hard for Philip to hide his emotions after he changed. After he met you. The old Philip could display the emotion of seriousness while his insides held humor, but the new version couldn't do such a thing.

So, it was comforting to know that his siblings wouldn't see his infortune hovering over his head like a rain cloud.

Philip ran through his morning routine, though he wasn't hungry enough to eat breakfast. However, his morning routine wasn't enough to distract him from the concoction of emotions swirling at the bottom of his gut, feelings that were too hard to to describe.

He turned to cleaning his room, hoping it would do some good. He looked around at the state of his room: his bed hadn't been made, despite that being apart of his daily routine. Shoes were cluttered along the wall, tipped over. His desk was a mess, with papers and books all sprawled out. Ink pots were on the brink of spilling, and he knew he would have to be cautious when searching for the letter opener buried under piles of unorganized papers.

He started with his desk, seeing that as needing the most attention. First he cleared the pots from the table, keeping them clear of any important papers.

Buried and mixed in with the mound on parchments he found a poem, one that held less important to him now than it had earlier. He could recall drafting it over and over again trying to find the right words and yearning to complete it. But alas, it was still in the works and waiting to be concluded with a perfect poetical paradox.

He would decide its fate another time.

Philip caught a distant hum in his ear. The tone was airy, carefree, and melodic like a harp. He longed to be as content as the tune once again.

The hum lured him, so loud and close it sounded, as if the source was right behind him. He turned around and went up to his closed window. He tried to unlatch and open it, but the installed contraption wouldn't budge. Looking out the window, he could see no person who could've made the sound yet it was still present. He began to believe it was a figment if his imagination; that it was the hum of your voice he heard.

The hum ceased.

He now believed that it was his mind playing tricks on him, and began to feel disgusted with himself for thinking of you. He huffed, walking to his desk to properly de-clutter it.

The humming resumed, and Philip froze. Along with disgust, Philip felt deranged from the sounds only he could hear. But yet again, he was the only one home to hear the noise, which made it even queerer.

He could hear it coming from the backyard again, just like he had the first time. Wanting to confirm his mental state before the sound stopped again, he rushed out of his room and down the stairs, passing under doorways and avoiding collisions with the furniture. He opened the back door, and noticed the sound grow louder as he drew closer.

As he turned the corner of the house, surprise caught his breath when he saw the back of his kneeling sister, Angie. She hadn't noticed his presence or the small gasp of air Philip inhaled, too swooned with the melody playing in her head.

Gardening tools were scattered around her, ready at her disposal. A straw hat with a pink accent ribbon was placed atop her hair, and a basket was placed next to her. Her hand visited the basket often as she plucked another vegetable from the soil. The basket was halfway full of other produce she had harvested earlier like potatoes, apples, and pears.

Philip observed her in the untroubled and lighthearted aura she gave off while still oblivious to him.

"Over the hills and far away~" she sang, continuing her leisure.

"I thought you went out with mother." His sudden voice didn't startle her, and she turned around, smiling upon seeing his face.

"No, I opted to stay and tend to the garden. Mother's making vegetable stew for lunch," she said, pulling another parsnip from its foundation. She dusted the dirt and stripped stray roots, placing it into the basket and wiping her blackened hands onto her apron. Philip still stood behind her, observing her jovial movements.

"May I help?" Philip requested, stepping closer to Angie. She chuckled at his offer.

"I would let you, but you don't know the first thing about gardening."

"Then teach me."

Angie stopped her movements and turned to Philip. She smiled with glee, and tipped her head next to her. Philip smiled, and followed in the direction of her motion.

He knelt down, looking around at all the hollow holes. He wondered how something so prosperous and full of life could be stripped of its beauty and assets yet able to reproduce them like it was never divested in the first place.

He studied the way her hands ever-so delicately dug around a ripe parsnip and carefully pulled the produce out. She handed the vegetable to Philip.

"Here, wipe all the dirt you can," she prompted. He started his chore, putting in great effort. His small habit of perfection made him try to pick off every tiny speck. Angie noticed the extra work and concentration her brother put in to cleaning the simple parsnip.

"It's a easy wipe, not a shine," she said, laughing. Philip dropped his shoulders, not noticing they had been so full of tension.

"Sorry," he breathed. He handed the clean parsnip to his sister, who then added it to her basket.

Angie continued the cycle of plucking and cleaning between her and Philip, filling up another large basket in the process.

A meek mewl caught Philip's attention and brought it away from his cleaning. He and Angie both turned to the flower bed behind them, seeing a cat emerge from the cover of the leaves and large petals. The cat was old with nimble legs and then a body all covered in grey fur. It's eyes were clear puddles, it's sight set on Angie. With steps quieter than those of a church mouse, the cat made its way over to her.

Angie greeted the cat sweetly as it nestled it head underneath her arm.

"Where did he come come from?" Philip asked. The cat noticed Philip's presence and slowly stepped towards him. He held a hand out, waiting to see what the cat would do. The cat approach his hand, bringing his nose to Philip's fingertips and sniffing them for a scent.

"I don't know. He's stopped here before whenever I was out in the garden."

Philip was surprised when the cat nuzzled the side of his head into Philip's hand, granting him the liberty of petting. His hand caressed back behind the cats head and over his back all the way to the end of his tail, feeling his slightly oiled fur.

"I named him Finny," Angie said. Finny's ears perked at the sound of his name. He walked away from Philip and left him for Angie.

"Ragged ol' thing," Philip commented, seeing faded fur around his toes, ankles, eyes and pointed muzzle.

"Yet still so calm and adoring,"Angie replied, smiling and petting the animal. She scoured the basket and pulled out and shiny red apple. Taking a small knife from her apron pocket and taking the blade cover off, she began to cut out a thin slice of the fruit. She then broke the piece in half and fed it to the cat, who gently took the food and lightly trotted away.

Angie watched as the cat walked away and back into the flower bed. She sighed, and turned back to the apple and knife in her hands. Continuing her cutting, Angie sliced the apple into four large, equal chunks. She cut off the stiff part that carried seeds, pocketing them for later. She gave two slices to Philip, and let two slices for herself.

"Thank you," Philip said, taking a bite of the crisp fruit.

"Thank nature. They produce the fruit. We are simply the distributors," Angie replied, following suit. "Do they taste alright to you?"

Philip nodded, not wanting to speak with a full mouth.

"I picked 'em a little early this year," she said after gathering the remains of the apple to one side of her mouth. Philip swallowed his bite.

"They are still delicious," Philip said, making Angie smile.

After covering the knife and putting it away, she continued the cycle of pulling and cleaning between them.

"How was the dinner at Monticello?" Angie asked after a few minutes of silence, now digging up a beetroot. Philip slowed down, processing the question.

He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her the truth or keep her from the worry.

"It went well," he simply replied.

"Any ladies worth fawning over?" She smirked. He gulped nervously.

"No, I believe both Pops and Mr. Jefferson himself wouldn't approve of a relationship between me and a Jefferson daughter. Though, I did see (Y/n)."

It was Angie's turn to slow her movements down as well. She didn't quite know how to feel about you. However, she did feel as if your friendship was becoming short lived, just like all the other times. You never told her that you were leaving for Paris, only Philip. You never wrote her a letter while away, and even before you left, she noticed the lack of effort you had in spending time with her.

She greatly doubted that you only used her for Philip, though it still lingered in her mind.

Angie kept digging, not wanting to cause her brother worry. "Oh? How is she?" She did a good job of hiding the tiny bitterness in her voice.

"She seemed well," he replied, lightly shrugging his shoulders. The only conversation you had with Philip was the argument that led up to his entire ordeal; it wasn't civil, and no doubt in his mind would it be the last one. 

"Seemed?"Angie pointed out.

"She brought a gentleman back home with her," he said, indirectly answering her question. Angie grinned.

"Do you know who?" Angie dug further into the events of the previous night, desperate for new information of her friend.

"Lafayette's son." Philip replaced the clean beetroot in his hand for another dirtied one.

"The Marquis de Lafayette? Did you see him as well?"

"No, just his son."

"Did you make any conversation or interaction with him? I can see you two becoming good friends." Philip chuckled anxiously, which Angie noticed.

"No, he was too busy meeting older men with inquiries about his family, or his father specifically." He shook his head. It was true; the man had been bombarded with others and their questions both during and after dinner.

"Anything else happen?" Philip began to think Angie was suspicious. He felt another lump of nervousness in his throat and swallowed it down.

"No," Philip said, deciding to lie.

Angie was suspicious. She released her grip from the beetroot she was about to pull and rested the back of her hands on her lap to prevent her apron from getting too dirty. She looked at Philip, trying to analyze his features. He almost looked deadpan, but she could still see the glint of pain in his eye.

"Why do you lie to your own sister?" She asked. Philip didn't reply, having been caught.

"James told me," Angie continued. Philip couldn't curse his younger sibling, as he expected him to tell at least one other. "I am the closest in age to you in this family, therefore I would understand! You shouldn't have to lie to me, Philip."

Philip couldn't even try to deny fibbing, either. "No, you wouldn't understand, Angie." He wanted to be done with the conversation, so he began to stand up, grabbing a full basket, and leave Angie to tend her garden alone again. Sure, it would leave her worried and wondering, but it was for the best.

"Then teach me."

Philip froze. It was common for Angie to reciprocate his words, but it was not the right time for her to do so. He brought a hand to his forehead, trying to find the right way to enter the topic.

"I challenged Georges to a duel," he said bluntly, back still facing her. The frankness made it almost seem like a joke to Angie.

She replied with a chuckle and said, "You jest, Philip," convinced it was just an awful line of humor.

"I do not, Angie. It's set for tomorrow at dawn in New Jersey."

"You shouldn't joke around like that. It can cause someone such a fright." Angie had been the victim of Philip's jokes when they were younger, and knew how persistant he was until she finally believed him.

"Angie," he turned and said. The smile from Angie faded, knowing his sternness indicated that it was the truth.

Her first instinct wasn't to cry, or yell in rage. She simply frowned and turned around, making herself busy once again with the vegetables.

She didn't need an explanation; Angie understood right away why he did what he did. They weren't children playing hopscotch on stepping stones without a care in the world anymore. She secretly knew it was bound to happen at least one point in his life, though she didn't imagine him being so young when it would.

"Envy was always considered a cardinal sin," she commented. Philip couldn't hear any sobs nor a waver in her voice. The reaction hadn't been anticipated by him. He wanted to question it, but decided against it.

"I'm sorry," was all that Philip could think to respond with.

"Just," Angie turned back, "come home with air in your lungs instead of blood."

Philip gave a nod and went on his way, wanting to finish cleaning his room.

✿  
November 5th, 1800  
1:00 am

You sat, legs crossed and back hunched, watching the fire flicker and rage. It somehow hypnotized you like a pendulum would when it swings back and forth. Your face was flush from the heat of the hearth and you could sense your legs beginning to feel pinched and spiked from their position, though, you didn't make the effort to move them.

You had kept feeding the fire through the hours of the night instead of feeding yourself with a meal.

**Author's Note:**

> if you recognized this story from wattpad, hello again! i'm adding this story to ao3 for users who don't have wattpad and to try and achieve just a bit of publicity;) 
> 
> if you don't recognize this story, hello! i'm gabi, also known as cupcakelover4488. i write hamilton fics, i'm a major history buff, and i speak in all lowercase letters. i hope you enjoyed the story and again since i have already written this on another site i will just transfer the chapters over every other day or so. 
> 
> thanks! :)


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